Malevolent Manipulations
by MiyaChama
Summary: Hera, bored and vengeful, makes a bet with the Dark Lord Hades. If he can seduce and ruin naive Artemis, then Hera will grant him his desire- 1 night with her. But Hades also wants to make the stubbornly virtuous Persephone his greatest conquest. Game on!
1. Act One, Scene One

_Dangerous Liaisons meets the Greek Myth of Hades and Persephone. A stand alone fic completely divorced from my HADES trilogy. It sounded like fun to me *shrugs* enjoy, and please review xx -Miya_

**Malevolent Manipulations**

**Act One Scene One:**

'Coming, Mama!' Persephone's voice rang out across the Olympian courtyard, drenched in the rays of the sun. It was another fine day in paradise. 'I'm coming!'

She lifted her many skirts above her knees to give her long bare legs a chance to move more freely, and dashed along in her sandals, careful not to slip and fall down the steps as she descended. It felt good to let her porcelain skin feel the beams of viridian heat like the warm massage of a lover; the whisper of the breeze like the breath of a friend on this balmy afternoon.

Her mother, Demeter, waited at the bottom of the long, winding marble staircase underneath an imposing archway enveloped in flora. A frown marred her beautiful face; and narrowed the eyes of clearest cerulean that her daughter had inherited.

'Hurry dear,' she said, and not without reason.

There was a man coming toward them across the garden, headed toward the staircase from where the young goddess flew down like some angel hurtling from heaven. He was a dark and tall man and Demeter, like everyone else in the Olympian court, was justly wary of him. Maybe it was her imagination, but the flowers themselves seemed to wilt in the wake of the dominating shadow he cast.

His angular face curved into an unmistakable smile-_no, it was nothing less than a contumacious smirk_-and he bowed deeply as he and Persephone reached Demeter at the same time.

'Ladies,' he said, in a low voice softer than lustrous black silk, the kind of silk that slipped unheeded around your neck and throttled you when you least suspected it.

'Hades,' Demeter nodded coolly, instinctively reaching for her daughter's hand.

Persephone was flushed and gasping from her brisk trot down the steps. The bloom on her lovely face was not only from her invigorating walk but her morning spent in the Olympian palace visiting her father-how she adored being in her father's presence as he introduced her to her many diverse, magnificent kin! Her young, firm breasts heaved against her constraining bodice, and realising she was in the presence of a man, she let go of her peach-hued petticoats and let them fall to her toes, hiding her long legs once more. She self consciously tucked a strand of raven's wing black hair, tousled by the wind, behind her ear as her blush grew as red as a sunset. She didn't see, because her oceanic eyes were fixed to the green grass at her feet, but Hades drank all of this in; leisurely memorising every feature of her for future recollection.

'Lord Hades,' she whispered breathlessly. 'It is a pleasure to see you.'

'The pleasure is all mine,' he replied, taking her hand-_the one Demeter wasn't squeezing_-and kissed it genteelly. 'If you will excuse me however, I cannot linger to bask in your company. I have been summoned.'

She offered forth a friendly smile but her face and eyes were closed to him. This was her mother's influence, of course.

He dropped her hand regrettably, and started up the stairs without another word, obviously keen to get wherever he was going. Persephone flexed the fingers that he'd grasped within his own slender grip, feeling a tingle and an odd void, but her mother took her by the shoulders and pulled her along.

'Oh Mama, can he really be as bad as everyone says?' she implored, wide-eyed.

'My lovely Kore,' Demeter sighed, 'while I cannot fault your charity and the innocent trust you place in every being you encounter, I must taint your view for your own good, as it is my job to protect my dearest and rarest bloom from the frosty touch of winter. Hades is a man of an evil disposition, and men of evil disposition will only cause heartbreak to women imprudent and foolish enough to give them their heart.'

She tucked a loose strand of her own dark hair, not black as Persephone's or that…_man's_…but a sleek mahogany, back into the tasteful bun tied at the nape of her neck as she walked her daughter along the meandering cobbled pathway to their humble cottage. She was musing.

'What can he possibly have been summoned here for?' she wondered aloud.

Her curiosity peaked Persephone turned, but though her summer sky eyes scanned for him, Hades was already gone, as swift and fleeting as a leaf in an updraft.


	2. Act One, Scene Two

_Upon reflection, the rating might go up to M at some point..._

**Act One Scene Two:**

Hera rested her chin in her hand, her head tilting to one side and splaying lustrous waves of spun gold over the edge of the balcony. She fanned herself with one hand, and stretched languidly, staring into the sky. She was bored.

Wretchedly, irreparably, _terminally_ bored. The tenacity of ennui pulled down the plump rosebud lips which had once graced sweet smiles upon everyone in the court, and her green eyes, which had long ago been as fresh and open and joyous as an early spring day had over time seen the corruption of the court and the adulterous actions of her husband once too often. They had become cold, hard emeralds, glinting and masked beneath her long dark lashes.

She yawned extravagantly, inhaling a mighty lungful of hot air, and mid-yawn a voice spoke up.

'Very ladylike, Hera. You let Zeus kiss that gaping great hole of Tartarus you call a mouth?'

She snapped her lips shut and sat up as stiffly as a corpse, crushing her fan in her fist. Her heartbeat increased, and then slowed as she took him in. Hades. Of course it was him; no-one else would dare.

She gave the intruder a twisted smile, aware that her face was heating up.

'Can you not do me the respect of waiting in the foyer to be announced, as do all my other guests?' she enquired.

He took a few steps forward, coming from shadows into the sunlight that swathed the open balcony where she rested.

'Tut-tut, sweet queen. I am as much like your other guests as night is like day.'

True enough. This deceptive, devilish man did not belong in her court.

'Insolence will be punished,' she said, her eyes locking into his.

'I await your punishment,' he said, eyes flashing as he came ever closer. His eyes were a deep melting chocolate brown, a Mediterranean to get lost in. A lock of black hair, obsidian as a chasm in the deepest pits of hell, fell into those shining, obstinate eyes. He had all the rugged good looks of her war god son; none of the pampered princely pompousness that his brothers-_her filthy cheating husband_-carried. Those were men who carried a comb in their pocket and would rather look upon a mirror than pleasure a woman. Narcissuses all, the pantheon was. But the Lord of the Underworld before her; he adamant nature was reflected not just in his eyes but in the trickle of sweat that ran down to his jaw-he wore cloaks of black and maroon despite the heat of the day. He was a rock, as hard and cold and brilliant as she. And she would break him. She'd broken him once before…

Hera found her voice, pushing this recollection to the back of her mind.

'I have a new game,' she said, annunciating every word carefully so that he could not mistake her intent. 'Would you care to play?'

'I cannot think of anyone I would sooner play with,' was his immediate and callous response.

He slid his hand through her saffron curls and drew her close, lowering his head, but she slapped his hand away, gesturing that he take the seat before her. He blatantly ignored it and leant against the balcony with his back to her, staring out at the cloudless infinity.

'You are as cold as ice,' he murmured. 'As frigid as ever.'

'We can't all be blazing with licentious fervour,' she returned. She felt a flare of irritation for this snub, as he must've felt for hers, but she doused it.

'I am sure you heard of my husband's conquest of Leto?'

Hades gave but a slight nod, indicating he had.

'I am sure you also heard of the culmination of this…romp,' she spat, 'twins Apollo and Artemis who my spouse has so considerately insisted we add to the council.'

'Gods of the moon and sun, correct?' Hades input, sounding faintly bored.

Hera resisted the urge to race to him and yank out his dark hair at the roots, _if only as an excuse to touch it, run her fingers through it…_

'Artemis is to remain a virgin goddess,' she said, her voice barely under control. 'She has sworn by the Lady Hestia that she will never marry, nor give herself to any man, under threat of dishonouring herself, her title, and her father.'

Hades, his firm hands still holding the balcony, leaned back and worked his head from side to side, easing a crick in his shoulders.

He sighed, 'And this would interest me because…'

'Because she is a naïve little twit,' Hera said, 'who knows nothing of the real world, nor of this vow she has undertaken. It will be a vow all too easily broken. I want it broken. I want Artemis, that whore Leto and my man-slut of a husband disgraced beyond repair. Who better to ravish her than the Dark Lord, whose notoriety for scandal and depravity precedes him? I ask this as a favour of you, Hades. '

There was a silence, save for the song of the swallows that dipped and looped in the atmosphere, and then Hades turned to her. His passionate brown eyes were heated with tinges of a burgundy hued curiosity that matched the finery that adorned his muscular frame. He was _mocking_ her.

'Surely you jest, Hera?'

'I am serious,' she sniffed, tossing her thick blonde mane over her bare shoulders. 'Do not tell me you have compulsions of bedding your niece? Your debauchery is as famed as your brothers; the only difference being that you are far more selective in your prey than they are.'

'I have no such compulsions. But as you said; it will be a vow all too easily broken. Where's the fun in that? What do I get out of it?'

White teeth flashed in a lustful grin just for her as he again moved in. He took her defiant chin gently between his index finger and thumb, and forced her to look up at him. He then smoothly pulled her up into his arms until their lips were nearly touching, but here she held him at bay, one hand placed on either of his shoulders.

'Hades,' she said, deliberately pressing herself to him and making her breathing ragged to evoke the response she could already feel within his tightening sinews, 'Deflower Artemis, and I will give you what you want.'

'Will you?' he whispered, his breath hotter than the summer sun and sweeter than the incense burning its thick, musky fog into her room. He didn't smell of putrid death as so many ignorantly assumed-_gods no_-he smelled of vanilla and bergamot, of sandalwood and jasmine. He smelled mouth wateringly delicious. He made her dizzy. She felt his arms slink around her waist but she refused to be pulled any closer to the pillar of his body. 'I have a conquest of my own in mind. If I sacrifice my precious time for this silly moon goddess, I expect a bountiful payment.'

She brushed the tip of her nose to his, her hands falling limply at her sides in refusal to caress him, and she saw him chewing his inner lip- a sign he was losing control. He hated to hold her when she acted like a rag doll; she knew it infuriated him.

'Give me what I want,' she said, 'and I will give you what you crave most in the cosmos.'

Hades could hardly breathe, his breath hitched in his throat as he lowered his mouth to her neck like a hungry vampire.

'One night in my bed,' she promised, and as a moan escaped his lips while this suggestion wrought its mischievous way into his imagination, she pulled back suddenly, one maddening second before his lips parted to ravish her skin. She shoved him away with all the force her trembling arms could muster, and staggered into her plush gilded seat.

Hades fell heavily back against the balcony and clutched at it for support. His face was flushed, and Hera feared hers was too; they never failed to work each other up into a sensual frenzy. If any of her attendants had come in and caught them in that clinch, there would have been hell to pay. She clasped her hands over her wildly beating heart and smiled triumphantly, her eyes hooded. She had him. She had him now. Let the games begin!

But Hades was glowering, his head bowed. When his lifted his face to meet her gaze, he also wore a sinister demeanour of triumph.

'No,' he said huskily.

Hera was not sure she heard this correctly. Her fingers began to trace her pearl necklace absently, each smooth bead flicking against her nails. Her emerald eyes glittered dangerously. 'Repeat that, Hades?'

'No,' he said again. 'I do not care to play your game. As I have stated, I have conquests of my own in mind; I am about to undertake the perusal of a certain virtuous maiden who will alone will take up all of my time and energy. And I do not think the _payment_ you offer is befitting the _punishment_ I would endure by lowering myself to stealing the maidenhead of a babe in the wood such as Artemis.'

He shrugged, like a merchant simply unable to let their goods be bartered down to a lower bid, and a parting smirk slid across his handsome face.

'Fare thee well, Hera.'

He was gone before these words sank in and took any effect, and she was again without him. This time, as Hera's breath came in ragged gasps, it was no act. She was _seething_. She held her fan in both hands and applied pressure until her knuckles turned white and the contraption snapped, splintering wood across the balcony where he had held her so close.

She had to calm herself.

There was a way to salvage the game yet.


	3. Act One Scene Three

**Act One Scene Three:**

The fragrant flowers of the garden were crushed beneath Hades' feet-he was deliberately aiming for them as he went. He was moody, and since nobody was around to yell at he felt that _something_ ought to suffer his wrath, even if it was innocent plant life.

He'd learned long ago not to enter lightly into battles of words with Hera-she had such a sharp tongue and quick wit that she always had a way of coming out of these encounters victorious while the loser limped home, his ego bruised and bleeding. The Queen was unstable…putting it mildly… and it was no wonder that Zeus crawled, whimpering, into the bed of any mistress who would take him. She had a way of grinding you down, of making you beg for more and then slamming her bedroom door in your face. She got under your skin like a disease, plaguing your thoughts day and night…as she had done to him in his brief spell as her lover, Hades recalled grimly.

'Come to me, Hades,' she had whispered, warm and willing one night, and then clawing his eyes out and screeching at him not to touch her the next and ever more after. He was not a man to take a woman by force-oh no, he knew his brothers and kin considered it acceptable practice but Hades didn't see the challenge in it if you held them down; any ugly street urchin could bed a woman while he held her down, but it took a well versed charmer to bring her eagerly to her knees before you, and that was his method of practise-but Hera had taken him to the brink of force so many times. She aggravated him so badly that he had to hold himself back from slapping her beautiful face. She was enough to drive a mortal man to drink and a god to insanity…if he didn't watch himself.

But Hades wasn't stupid. He wanted Hera, but he didn't want her as his queen. May providence forbid such a cold fish; as lifeless and frozen as a corpse, should ever lie beneath him in his marriage bed, he thought with a shudder. No, he wanted to claim her one last time-_and how_-but he also wanted to set her free after his torrent of passion was spent. He needed to get her out of his system, but the only way to do this was to…

He swore aloud, his mind filling with poisonous, delectable thoughts of her, when he suddenly spied someone moving in the forests to the side of the tree-lined avenue where he stormed on his way back to the comforting silence of his Underworld. He stopped walking, and listened. A feminine voice, soft as a psalm, was humming; her crystallised aria drifting through the olive trees.

Well well well. If it wasn't the latest object of his affections. He stole through the dappled sunlight that cascaded through the overhead canopy and came upon her, speedy and silent as an owl upon a field mouse. She was knelt at the bank of a large, still pond, holding her hand out to a fawn that bathed in the shallows. She stopped singing to coo softly at the creature, and he grinned to himself, wondering if her voice would be this soft as she screamed his name in ecstasy when he finally conquered her. Her effortless grace amazed him as she leaned in, stroking the fawn's muzzle as it shut its huge eyes in pleasure of her touch, but then a twig snapped beneath Hades' foot and the animal jerked up, panicky.

It splashed away in terror, and Persephone turned around to see who had spoiled this moment of tranquillity. The disappointment on her visage-_did I cause that Persephone? I'm sorry_-turned to surprise when she saw her uncle leaning back against the bark of an oak tree.

'Lord Hades,' she cried, struggling to her feet.

He waved his hands. 'No formalities, please, Persephone.' He enjoyed saying her name. It danced from his tongue over his lips. 'I did not intend to startle you. How very lovely you look here, more at home with nature than any impish wood-nymph, and far more striking to behold.'

His brown eyes flashed with glee as she began to blush. _This girl can't even take a compliment without going cherry red; she truly is adorable._

Still, it was infuriating to know that this foolish child still only in her teens had already taken her own personal oath of chastity; not swearing by any law or goddess, but by her own virtue that she would wait for true love. What did a child like her know of true love? He had been stepping closer to her without thought, and she had backed herself up against a tree. Realising this and not wanting to frighten her, Hades stood still and gazed down. At his impressive height of six feet two he easily towered above her cutely diminutive stature, and even in this proximity, he couldn't smell her perfume. She wore no vaporous nimbus of throat-clogging scent, as all the other noble goddesses of court felt was requisite. Up close, he pondered impishly, her skin probably smelled-and tasted-utterly divine.

Her sapphire eyes that held flecked pigments of turquoise within shifted nervously, from her feet, to this tree, to that tree, and back to her feet. He saw she was scared of him.

'You fear me, child?' he asked, keeping his hands impartially at his sides as Hera-_that cold bitch_-had done.

'Not exactly, my Lord,' said Persephone, and now a small smile illuminated her pallid complexion. _Bless her_, he thought fondly. How many smiled for him? 'I must admit that I have been…warned…about you by several friends. I do not think it is appropriate for a maiden such as myself to be alone with the Lord of the Underworld in such a…secluded place.'

Now he couldn't stop himself from smiling either. Persephone saw this and it seemed to ease her somewhat. Friends, he thought, amused and annoyed. Meddling witches who distort the truth with their waspish gossip and speak of things they know nothing of is a more accurate description.

'May I enquire who speaks ill of me?' he asked, and calmly placed a hand against the tree trunk by Persephone's head, leaning in so that their faces were closer. It was intended to be a neutral and yet disquietingly threatening gesture. It worked.

'L-Lady Leto,' Persephone squeaked, and Hades immediately dropped his hand.

'Is that so?' His eye muscle was twitching, and his eyes were narrowing.

'M-my Lord-'

_Damn that Leto. As though fending off that prudish mother-hen Demeter wasn't enough; now Persephone's wary of me this could set me back weeks, even months. Trust is difficult to gain but so easy to break. Well, Leto. See if you are still as eager to tittle-tattle when your precious Artemis is branded a worthless, wanton harlot. Your baby girl will be as skilled in the bedroom as any prostitute when I'm through with her. It looks like you get your will again, Hera._

'Go, Persephone,' he said darkly, and she didn't hesitate in following this order. 'Wait,' he called in a change of heart, as she exited the clearing. She halted, peering over her shoulder fearfully. Her long black hair swung around her waist as she did so. He liked her hair; it was the same colour as his, almost a perfect match. _A perfect match indeed. How good it will look splashed on the pillow beside mine._ 'I do not wish to taint the repute of your friend-' _even though she didn't do me that courtesy_, '-by calling her a liar, but I would like to offer my own side of the story. I am not the man everyone thinks I am.'

She was playing with her hands, wringing them. Her pretty young face was undecided. She had all the childish charm Hera once had, before the weight of the world dropped down like a mighty anvil and crushed her spirit. Perhaps that was why he was drawn to her.

'You are such an honourable maiden; I feel I can confess to you what I cannot to others. Would you allow a poor wretch this whim? Can I appeal to your openly compassionate nature, and speak to you truthfully as a friend?'

Appealing to her compassionate nature was just what he'd done, and it seems he'd struck home.

'You may,' she whispered, exalting him with another of her beaming smiles, brighter than Helios' rays. 'I can always offer you my friendship, Lord Hades.' And yet, her guard was up. He could see it in her stiff posture, her brittle tone. That was okay. It was progress, for now.

'I thank you, sweet and gracious Persephone,' he said, aware that he must have made a peculiar and grim figure, standing alone in the woodland glade in all his forbidding, gloomy and imperial glory. 'I hope that next we meet, we may speak in greater depth. We are but fellow beings who must get along side by side in this humble hovel.' He lifted an eyebrow wryly at the stately Olympian palace, staggeringly visible even through the trees, and she laughed.

Her laugh sent unexpected shivers down Hades' spine. She bowed a little and then scurried off. He watched her go, and his shoulders sagged. How Hera would laugh if she'd only heard the drivel pouring from his mouth. Hera…he'd have to go crawling back to her now. What fun that would be.


	4. Act One Scene Four

**Act One Scene Four:**

She knew he'd come back eventually.

She sat with her shapely legs crossed, her slender, tapered fingers reaching for a piece on the solitaire board and a wicked sneer on her lips as he returned. She was the portrait of mockery. Worse still, she had deliberately pinned up her glorious daffodil coloured hair into a glamorous knot so that tendrils wisped around her neck and shoulders, and diamonds shimmered on her diadem, ears and throat, calculatingly drawing attention to her womanly beauty. Her lush, bejewelled lilac peplos was even arranged low enough to reveal a generous amount of cleavage. She batted her eyelashes as he thundered in like a tempest-he was far more terrifying than Zeus could ever be when enraged, she knew from experience-and the nymph attendant who was industrially and silently embroidering in a rocking chair in the corner let out a cry and stood as if expecting to defend her mistress from attack.

Hades slammed both his hands down upon her solitaire board, messing up her game. It mattered not; another far more interesting game was about to begin. She studied the ring he always wore-_his only piece of jewellery_-a black diamond encrusted with garnets and set with pewter, and then tranquilly slid her eyes up his body and back to his congested face.

'Shall I call security?' stammered the nymph, and Hera shook her head vaguely.

'You haven't answered my correspondence,' Hades snarled, throwing down a pile of letters, all with the red mark of 'return to sender' stamped upon them in Hermes' seal, as per her wishes. 'You haven't even read them!'

Hera lay back, and sighed a ladylike little sigh while Hades exhaled fire through his nostrils. She played with a tendril, winding it around her finger and letting it _ping_ free again.

'You rejected me,' she said coolly. 'I do not like to be rejected.'

'If you had opened the letters you would have seen that I changed my mind and accepted your proposal,' he hissed. 'It was my only method of contact, seeing as you evaded any audience with me.'

'I am no longer interested in the deal,' Hera murmured, picking up a nearby bunch of grapes from an ornate bowl and popping one into her mouth, savouring the sweet burst of juicy flavour. 'I no longer wish to put myself forth as the _payment_, seeing as you didn't find me…_adequate_.' She grinned an evil little grin and stuffed a few more grapes in. Her nymph had wisely gone back to sewing, hearing nothing and seeing nothing.

'Hera,' Hades groaned, all anger gone but boyish passion most certainly intact, 'I find you more than adequate, it was the task at hand I did not find thrilling enough to be worthy of such a reward.'

Hera arched one perfect eyebrow in a gesture of 'you expect me to believe that?' She then placed one grape on her outstretched tongue using only her index fingertip, taking it into her mouth slowly and letting purple juice trickle over her lips as she bit down and sucked. Hades shifted and groaned again.

'I have changed my mind, Hera. I will destroy Artemis, and her rumour-mongering mother in the process.' Hera shook her head. 'But what else do you wish of me?' he asked desperately.

'It is no longer a favour I wish of you,' she said. 'It is a wager. If you want me then you may try to win me, but of course you may fail. It depends on your skill.'

Hades' soulful chocolate eyes were swirling in intrigue, enraptured by her, just the way she liked it. 'Go on,' he said in low tones.

'I know who your latest target is. Persephone, Goddess of Spring. Do not look so shocked Hades; you are as subtle in your appreciation of women as my husband is in his philandering. You all but drool whenever Demeter brings her through the palace.'

Hades' masculine jaw clenched and Hera felt a rush of mean pleasure. _Good, you deserve it. You should only gaze upon me like that. _

'I wager that she will be your first failed conquest. If by some miracle you bend this inflexible iron flower to your will and take her maidenhead, and get proof of this accomplishment, well…then and only then will I lose the wager, and you shall have your night of indescribable pleasure with me.' She confirmed this by slipping another grape between her lips and chewing meaningfully, her eyes of malachite burning into his.

'What if…and this is highly unlikely,' he smirked, 'you should win, and I fail? What do you get?'

Hera was frankly amazed that his swelled ego had shuffled over to make enough room for this possibility. 'I want Blinky.'

Hades started. Blinky was his pride and joy; his sleek, jet black mare whose eyes of fire and shrieking, whinnying neigh sent even Cerberus into hiding. She drew his chariot out of the earth and through the night skies, and she had more power and speed under her glossy, rippling coat than all of his brother's steeds combined.

'Is that fair?' Hera asked affably.

Hades considered, cogitating so intensely Hera fancied smoke might waft out of his ears. 'What of Artemis?' he asked at last.

'It is still in both our best interests to _take care_ of that matter, is it not?' Hera asked flippantly, well aware that she was talking him into playing her pawn for free when only days ago he had refused even when the ultimate prize had been dangled before him. How dim-witted men were.

'Yes, it is,' Hades agreed, apparently as dim-witted as she'd expected. She smiled, and extended a manicured hand.

'Good. So we have a deal?'

He shook her hand, establishing the commencement of the game. Hera had to bite her lip to keep the maniacal giggles from pouring out of her like water from a babbling brook. This game had higher stakes than he knew.

'You accept that I may make things…difficult for you?' she asked dreamily.

'I would not have it any other way,' he rasped, and wrenched her towards him.

The table between them went flying and crashed over. He squeezed her wrist tightly enough to leave marks, eyed her hungrily, and then twisted her around so that her back was enfolded against him in his arms. He was soon occupied with nibbling at her ear and trailing his free hand conceitedly over the swell of her ample breasts beneath the fine cloth. She sighed with bliss and he smiled, thinking he had control of her. How wrong he was. She took his straying hand with her free hand and brought it to her soft lips, sucking slowly on one finger and inducing another groan ripped from his very soul. While he was distracted, his breath coming hot and heavy against the back of her neck, she quickly and savagely bit into his fingers deep enough as to draw blood.

Needless to say, he let go of her fast enough.

'Arghhhh,' Hades yelled, backing away and holding his injury as it spurted crimson, 'you sick-'

'Watch your vernacular in the presence of your Queen,' Hera laughed, wiping her mouth and gesturing to the poor nymph who watched the proceedings as though witnessing some awful play. 'Go and attempt to seduce Persephone, and only if you bring shame to her and Artemis may you lay your filthy hands on me, presumptuous and arrogant Lord of the Underworld. Now get out.'

He went; Hera's cackles echoing behind him every step of the way.

**Act One: End**

* * *

_Act Two shall commence after a brief intermission :) Because...I need to plan and write it! Hehe. Please throw out your comments, criticisms, suggestions to me. I'm all ears._


	5. Act Two Scene One

**Act Two Scene One:**

Persephone was thrilled. Ecstatic. Over the moon!! A whole two months spent in the company of her kin, in the beautiful royal palace gardens of Olympus? How could she say no!

Her mother hadn't been quite as equally thrilled.

'Really,' Demeter had grumbled, as a retinue of Zeus' nymphs bustled around Persephone's humble little room in the cottage she shared with her mother, collecting her things and packing clothes for the trip. 'Couldn't your father have given us a little more warning before _demanding_ the pleasure of your company? Better yet; couldn't he have invited me too?'

Persephone had just stayed out of the way by the window, watching the nymphs pack her things and nearly levitating with excitement. _I don't care why Father suddenly requested that I spend the summer in his court_, she thought,_ but I could kiss him for doing so!_ Her face was flushed rosy red as she turned and basked in the sun that streamed through the window. What an opportunity this could be; a chance to finally escape her mother's apron strings and live her life freely as the other young goddesses did!

'But what will become of your education?' Demeter had protested.

'Oh Mama,' Persephone sighed, 'two months of replacing the droning of my language teacher with the droning of the bumblebees won't hurt, will it?'

Demeter's oh-so-blue eyes had been brimming with tears as she kissed her daughter once, twice, thrice goodbye, and she made her promise to write everyday. Persephone vowed she would, while silently vowing that she planned to get up to such wild adventures this summer that the letters would have to be severely edited for content. The thought had nearly made her giggle aloud as she waved goodbye and was helped into Zeus' grand carriage, led by four white stallions.

That had been this morning, and this was now. After being settled into her room and waving away all of the overly eager servants (Persephone was not used to being waited on; it made her uncomfortable) the young woman braided her dark hair, put on a colourful azure frock that fell just above her knees in a style that showed an amount of skin her mother would never have allowed, and fastened it upon her left shoulder with a sparkling emerald broche in the shape of an apple. The jewelled clasp had been one her various birthday presents from a family member on the day she'd been born, though the generous benefactor had remained anonymous.

_You don't look half bad, girl,_ she told her reflection in the ornate looking glass upon her dresser, and then laughed at her own forwardness. Pleased with her appearance and giddy with the newfound heady sensation of freedom she allowed herself a quick twirl around the room before leaving; it was long and spacious and smelled airy and fresh, with a balcony overlook perfect for stargazing and a plush four poster bed made of antique pine -_with the softest pillows a girl could ask for! - _and the hardwood floors were so polished she could nearly see her own reflection. A vast assortment of leather-bound books, mostly of human origin, graced the shelves at the far corner of the room. _Father thought of everything to keep me entertained_, she thought happily. _Everything except…_

With a flourishing swish of her finger, a plant pot materialised on her night stand and a primrose popped up out of the fresh soil, matching Persephone's smile with its sunny yellow exuberance. _And I'll add a new flower,_ she thought, _one for each wonderful day that this summer will bring me!_

Grinning again at nothing in particular save her own sense of self accomplishment and the feverish buzz that only the heat of the sun and the elation that adolescence can bring, the goddess slipped her wiggling bare toes into her sandals and made her way outside to explore the grounds under the skies of blue.

The sun-drenched room made just for her was silent and still for a minute, and then Persephone dashed back in, selected a nice absorbing book to take with her, _perfect for losing myself in as I lie back in the dewy grass_, and bustled happily out again.

She had no idea of what that summer would truly bring, and had she known, she would not have been quite as thrilled as she was. But she didn't, and so for now, all seemed right with the world.

* * *

_Apologies for not updating in a while, and sorry this chapter is short, but the next one is half written so should up up pretty soon. I thought I should pause here to reveal Persephone's personality a bit more. More wicked, sexy Hades goodness next time, and an explanation for why Zeus suddenly invited his daughter to spend two months away from her overbearing mother...in case you haven't already figured out who might've put him up to it *winks*_

_I'm so grateful (and shocked!) for the huge number of favorites and adds this fic has recieved, but remember, reviews are also greatly loved! Thank you to **MandyJane**, **Changgirl **and **Hitomi Zotz**! ;3_


	6. Act Two Scene Two

**Act Two Scene Two:**

In his Underworld quarters Hades stretched in the same languid, leisurely way he'd often seen Hera stretch; his arms above his head, his hand laced together, and a yawn crossing his handsome face. _Of course Hera looks a lot better stretching, what with all that voluptuous cleavage straining against the tight, thin cotton of her dress,_ he thought wickedly, licking his lips, and then frowned, because he'd made a pact with himself not to think about Hera for twenty four hours and this was the third time he'd failed in about ten minutes. His powers of concentration were suffering, and they glared in an annoyed fashion at his libido. _It's not my fault she's an intoxicatingly sexy wench,_ his libido retorted defensively.

At least momentary distractions of Hera kept him from thinking of Persephone, and what he was to do about her. Artemis would be simple, but preparations clearly had to be in order for _this_ conquest-the greatest conquest of all time, and he wasn't really sure where to start. He'd never had to make any particular preparations for chasing after a woman; he just smooth talked his way into her heart (and into her bed) and that was that, thank you very much, on to the next gorgeous thing that drifted by in a skirt. He liked to think he had more refined taste and certainly was more subtle about his romantic prowess than his brothers and nephews, but when it all came down to it, he liked the feel of a woman beneath him as much as the next god.

Separating Persephone from her mother had been the first step, and how ridiculously easy that had been-he'd even managed to convince Zeus that it had all been his own idea. A few hopeful words whispered into the King's ear about how much Hades _adored_ his little niece and how she _adored_ him in return but they simply weren't able to get together with her mother breathing down her neck _all the time_ so could _dear_ Brother be a sport and do anything to help them out?... and Zeus had folded faster than a cheap chlamys; eager to kill two birds with one stone by appeasing the Dark Lord (who he feared, much as he tried to hide it, thought Hades smugly) and finally giving his precious daughter the joys of a real man. Zeus had a somewhat warped paternal theory: in his faraway world where carnal pleasures ruled over logic he was actually more concerned for his daughter to become a woman than he was to protect her chastity, like most normal fathers would be, and for her to know these joys at the hand of his older brother could only be, in his twisted mind, a bonus. _Its little wonder Demeter won custody of the girl_, Hades thought with a crooked smile.

But the next step…that was the issue. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his magnificently morbid onyx and bone fashioned throne, frowning thoughtfully. Silver tongued as he was, he couldn't rely on his suave sophistication alone to win around the girl of spring if the entire court, including that damned Leto, could persuade her otherwise. If he was going to pretend to be a nice guy to get her attention, and surely that was the only plausible method, seeing as she wasn't likely to fall for the bad boy persona that usually won the dames over, he needed some kind of evidence to prove he was a nice guy. Of this he had none, because he _wasn't_ a nice guy. What to do?

'My Lord!'

A timid cry rang out and echoed through the throne room, and Hades cast his unimpressed eye down over a trembling guard wearing the ancient battle armour of a warrior. The sallow flesh hung from his sunken face; he was a long-deceased member of Hades' entourage-led by Charon- who handled affairs that he couldn't be bothered with.

'What?' Hades snapped, immensely irritated at being interrupted while thinking.

'My Lord; forgive me but, a mortal man insists on speaking with you,' the wretched guard was mumbling, his bones quite literally rattling.

'A mortal?' Hades drawled, his tone menacingly uninterested.

'His name is Orpheus; he wishes to plead for the soul of his wife who has only hours ago entered your domain: Eurydice.'

Hades slammed his fists down on the arms of his throne, and the guard jumped a foot in the air. 'And you suppose I would give a satyr's ass about this _why?_' he hissed, brown eyes flashing. 'Do you not suppose that everyday a million mortal men come down to my realm when they are not welcome, begging for the life of their woman and believing, through some misguided judgment, that they might actually have a chance of rescuing her when she's _dead_ even though they couldn't seem to manage it when she was _alive?_'

'But this man, Orpheus,' bleated the guard, looking as though the fires of hell might be preferable to where he was here and now, 'he plays such beautiful music; we were all so impressed we simply had to let him through…'

'Ohhhh,' said Hades in a sarcastically acidic tone of understanding, standing from his throne and advancing down the steps slowly, '_impressed_, were you? Simply _had_ to let him through, did you? Well that explains _everything_,' he reached the guard, loomed over him, and picked him up by the collar of his tattered clothing, 'that perfectly justifies disturbing the peace of your lord and master and bothering him with the trivial tribulations of mortals while he is contemplating his great matters.'

A quick interlude of spectral silence.

'So,' the guard whimpered pathetically, clearly confused, 'you will see him then?'

Hades' fake smile promptly evaporated and he snarled, shaking the guard hard to within an inch of his (after) life. 'NOOO!!!' he roared. 'CHOP THE BASTARD UP, FEED HIS ENTRAILS TO CERBERUS AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!!'

If soulless corpse guards could have cried, this one would be doing so.

At that moment a melody cut through the air, startling Hades, who was not used to experiencing the shivers that a perfectly tuned melody could evoke. Sweet and tender as the ringing of a tiny bell, and yet majestic and powerful as an tidal wave rushing in to shore; it resounded and danced upon every surface, resonating in the hearts of all listeners-alive or otherwise-and grew louder, coming to a halt as a small blond man entered the chamber, his fingers strumming a final few notes upon the lyre he carried, before falling still and falling silent.

'Am I addressing the great Lord Hades?' he asked in husky and broken tones, falling to one knee on the cold stone floor.

Hades unceremoniously released the guard, dropping him into a quivering heap, and strode toward the man. His face was stormy but curious.

'You certainly are,' he said, motioning for his visitor to stand. He was pleased to see that the human barely stood level with his chin. 'You would be Orpheus?'

Orpheus, clearly not one to mince his words, had them gush forth as though a dam has broken. 'Please Lord Hades,' he implored, grabbing hold of the god's muscular upper arms in anxiety and making him frown, 'I beseech you; please give my beloved Eurydice another chance at life. I love her so dearly, and she was cruelly stolen from my side when a snake's potent venom poisoned her body beyond repair. I simply cannot live with this cruel twist of fate, and when I asked the villagers if they knew of any way to bring her back to me my dear friend, your niece Persephone, suggested that I-'

'Wait,' Hades snapped, now grabbing Orpheus' arms back just as firmly, 'what did you say about Persephone?'

Orpheus' dark eyes, filled with misery and heartbreak and bereft of light, suddenly widened as though he believed his appeal stood a chance.

'Persephone,' he repeated frantically, as though the name itself were a prayer, 'Persephone the Goddess of Spring happens to be a precious friend of mine, I am a popular musician and I play my music for her entertainment sometimes you see; and she suggested that I go to you for help in saving my wife, as you are the only one with the power to bring Eurydice back to me. She says you are not the ogre that rumour makes you out to be.'

Orpheus gritted his teeth, tears pooling in his eyes, as though scared of what else might pour out of his wounded soul if he didn't silence himself.

Hades' face was devoid of expression. He was considering this intensely.

_It looks as though the oppurtunity to garner the evidence of what a nice guy I am just strolled in the door playing a lyre_, he crowed to himself. _Wait until Persephone hears about this!_

'Dear Orpheus,' he boomed, placing a friendly arm around the astonished man's slight shoulders, 'I should be delighted to help you in your request. Eurydice may go free. However; I must place one condition upon your wife being able to leave my domain…'


	7. Act Two Scene Three

**Act Two Scene Three:**

Artemis scrunched up her pale, full moon face, her hazel eyes narrowing as she occupied herself with her calligraphy. So absorbed was she with her practice that she never saw him coming-literally or figuratively speaking.

'You appear hard at work there, most temperate and fair lunar maiden,' said a low, masculine voice, and the young goddess tore her attention from the letter to her brother and took in the god before her.

The Lord of the Underworld stood brazenly on her patio, his clothing and hair so dark that he made a brilliant contrast to the bright iris of flora either side of him in their many splendored hues. Artemis blinked her watery eyes.

'Lovely weather is it not?' he pressed.

Hades inwardly sighed as he awaited her reaction, watching her cheeks steadily go as pink as a slapped behind. _Oh, this is going to be fun_, he thought miserably. _She doesn't even have the rosy, healthy blush of Persephone; if anything she rather looks like she's afflicted by a nasty rash. Never mind. If this is what it takes to shut her mother's vicious mouth for good..._

'May I enquire as to whom the lucky recipient of that letter to which you are devoting so much time and trouble is?' he continued, hoping that this introverted little mouse of a creature might find her voice at some point.

'My twin; Apollo,' Artemis said at length, her gaze bashful and distrustful all at once. Her voice was thin and shaky. 'He is currently below the clouds amongst the humans, instructing them in the art of medicine.'

'Ah,' said Hades, in an intractably jaunty manner, 'your dear brother, of course. He has certainly been doing a wonderful business down there…preventing death…making my services in this world all but redundant.' Artemis shrank back a little at the vehemence in his voice. Hades repaired himself quickly. 'But a splendid job he's doing, simply splendid. You must miss him, though.'

'Quite,' Artemis agreed neutrally, returning to her writing.

Hades pounced forward, placing his hand over hers and halting her scribbles. Artemis stared at his shining black diamond and garnet ring and then up at him like a deer confronted by a wild bear. 'It must be difficult to be separated from your twin; the one closest to you…the other half of your soul,' he said softly, trying not to smirk as the splotches of unbecoming pink arose once more over the girl's face.

'Quite,' she whispered, and this time the expression written on her face was clearer than the fantastically cloudless expanse of skies above them. She'd obviously never had a man hold her hand before, and she was just as obviously delighted and frightened simultaneously by it.

Hades took advantage of this, squeezing her fingers gently under his. He knew he had to be quick so as not to be seen by the goddess' governess, Selene, who was pouring tea nearby. He moved like a swift black panther around the back of her so he could speak over her shoulder, one arm around her and his hand never leaving hers.

'Your calligraphy could use improvement,' he murmured, moving her hand under the power of his and watching the ink drizzle from the tip of the brush. The heat of his touch was infusing her cool, clammy little palm, and he rubbed his thumb in an enticingly unhurried circular motion over the back of her hand. 'Think how delighted your brother would be to receive letters that don't look like chicken scratch. I could teach you, if you wish.'

Artemis half turned in surprise, so that her face was but millimetres from his agreeable smile, and then coyly lowered her head back to her letter, her straight, nutmeg curtain of hair blocking his view of her burning face. It didn't matter. He knew he'd won. _If she says 'quite' again_, he thought wryly, _I'll end up throttling her before we even reach the bedroom. _

'If it would please you, Lord Hades,' she all but choked.

He tut-tutted. 'No no, little rabbit,' he whispered, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting her face back towards his, 'I am all about…pleasing you. There are many things I have yet to teach you. All in good time.'

* * *

_I know, its short, sorry! :) One downside of writing this fic 'scene' style is that I can only write one scene per scene (eh? o.O) but anyways...Hades' ego is growing out of control, inflating bigger and bigger...which goddess will be the one to burst it with a big ol pin? _

_Its funny...I know exactly where I'm going with this, and yet I'm making it up as I go along :laughs: I'm thinking of switching perspectives as we go so that we're not always hearing from Hades...what do we think?_

_The next chapter must be longer! :determined face:_


	8. Act Two Scene Four

_My continued thanks to all readers and reviewers! I'm doing my best for you!!_

* * *

**Act Two Scene Four**

By the time he left her side the young goddess was utterly disarmed by his charm, and Hades was feeling excessively and excusably self-satisfied. His mood was only improved when he came upon a far more pleasing sight than the mousy lunar goddess could ever hope to be; Persephone out for an evening stroll, arm in arm with her fat headed father. They seemed to Hades thusly: a giant ugly toad lounging conceitedly upon a Lilli pad while a dainty, pure white lotus flower drifts by in the still, clear waters beside it.

Prepared to take the rough with the smooth, Hades made a beeline for them through the evening haze of lavender and honeysuckle blossoms.

The king was a tall and well built god, though perhaps not as lean and perfectly proportioned as Hades was-his muscles were overdone as though the artist who sculpted him got a bit carried away. Zeus brought definition to the word 'brawny'. He was speaking to his daughter in his usual deep and slow voice; one who didn't know him would assume he was condescendingly speaking slowly for the benefit of everyone around him, as though his subjects were stupid, but those who knew him knew that he spoke so slowly because his own system couldn't handle the burden of a large stream of words at any given time. He needed to slow down his thinking and speech in order for his wine, women and song-addled brain to process anything trying to get in or out of it.

Persephone was the first to notice the Lord of the Underworld's arrival and as she tightened her grip on her father's arm he stopped speaking.

Hades was overjoyed to see the pretty smile spread across her lips-in fact his heart gave a bit of an odd kick-and she let go of Zeus' arm to patter over and take Hades' hands as he joined them. She was as fresh as a flourishing blossom, her hair slightly tousled by the gentle breeze and her eyes sparkling like the rays of the sun hitting the surface of a lake. She was holding a book-_of course, she must love to read. I've often seen her engrossed in literature. I'm learning about you, Persephone_- and for the first time since he'd seen her swimming in Poseidon's ocean as a carefree child, the tanned skin of her arms and shapely legs was on full display. _Enjoying your freedom in your mother's absence, sweetheart? You have me to thank for that!_ he felt like saying, but contained this urge.

'Lord Hades,' she said, squeezing his hand._ Goodness;_ he thought, _she must be very happy to be so familiar with me._ 'I'm so pleased to see you.'

'And I you,' Hades answered, kissing her hand and not letting his lips linger as he wished he could. 'I am surprised to see you in the court again so soon; it is a delightful coincidence as I just happen to be staying here myself a month or two.'

Zeus; who had been watching this exchange and raising his eyebrows in a pleased manner, suddenly frowned. 'But you told me to…' he said, perplexed, and then quickly closed his mouth again when he caught the sharp, icy glare cast in his direction. 'I shall…leave you two alone…' he mumbled, evidently hoping for a goodbye from his enraptured daughter, and when it was clear he wasn't going to get it because her attention was all for Hades, he ambled away, disgruntled.

'My friends were passing through the hamlet of the famed musician Orpheus only yesterday,' Persephone continued to gush, and Hades began to wish that her gaze would stay this way forever; never leaving his. Apparently overt joy had erased any trace of bashfulness. 'They told me of your great deed. Oh, what a kindly man you are, Lord Hades!' She supplemented this with another hand squeeze.

Hades squeezed her fingers under his with equal affection, musing that holding Artemis' hand had been so different. Persephone had much slenderer fingers, and her hand was as warm as his. She was only a few years Artemis' senior, but she was so much more sensual without even trying. She had childish charm with womanly beauty. How he wanted to those soft hands to stroke his hair, his body…

'Have I not told you before; you should not pay heed to the gossip of servants,' he chided her gently, enjoying her momentarily crestfallen appearance.

'But this was good gossip,' she stressed, 'you mustn't be so modest! Everyone is talking of how you gave poor Eurydice another chance!'

'Ah yes,' Hades said, doing his best to look rueful, 'such a sad affair. What a pity that her husband failed to retrieve her soul.'

_Not that he ever had a chance to succeed in the first place,_ he thought gleefully. _It was a win-win situation._ Hades knew full well that there was no way Orpheus would be able to resist breaking the one rule of looking behind him as he and his wife attempted to depart the Underworld. The creed by which Hades lived proved true time and time again; when temptation was present it was only a matter of time before it was given in to. _But Persephone doesn't have to know that._

'It is tragic that Orpheus lost Eurydice,' Persephone agreed. In the melancholy reflectiveness of the moment she finally seemed to realise that she was holding Hades' hand, and to his chagrin she let go. 'But still…it's the thought that counts. You might have incurred the wrath of the Fates for the action of reviving a life,' she added quietly. 'It was a very selfless and philanthropic thing you did for that unfortunate man, Lord Hades.'

_You really see such goodness in this disreputable devil, you innocent angel? _

At Persephone's heartfelt compliments, showering him like a light rainfall, Hades almost felt guilty for orchestrating Orpheus' failure. Almost, but not quite. Every action that brought Persephone closer to him brought him closer to Hera.

_Time to reap the benefits of my seeds of supposed kindness._

'I can only imagine what that pitiable mortal must be going through,' he exclaimed, taking a barely discernible step toward her. 'Having to go on without his true love at his side. How can any man be happy unless he has his soul mate with him?'

Persephone bit her lip, wringing her hands, and Hades felt a jolt of anxiety.

_Did I lay that on too thick?_

'I know,' she whispered, allaying his fears. 'A couple so madly in love, given blessing on their wedding day by the Lady Aphrodite herself no less; to see them broken apart…it makes my heart ache.'

'Oh Persephone,' he murmured, distressed by her distress, and this time his words were honest, not an ounce of pretence weighing them down. He touched her cheek with one finger as lightly as the brush of a plume, and she hastily jumped back as though faced with a red hot poker.

She seemed to have finally noticed how close he was to her, and how alone they were among the topiaries. Pulling breath into her lungs, she began to walk briskly alongside the hedgerows, and Hades followed her. It was wonderful to see her raven hair loosely flowing about her one bare shoulder, and down the nape of her neck to where her peplos gathered in a drape of tropical pink and carnation coloured fabric. Her hair was finer than his and appeared marvelously sleek and silky. She had a slim frame and lovely little shoulders, he thought. _The perfect size to fit in my arms, as though we were created to complete each other..._

'Lord Hades,' she said, her elusive gaze darting about on the ground, 'please…'

'Why must you shy away from me?' he asked, trying not to sound as snappy and offended as he felt. 'I mean you no harm. Persephone…seeing the light of your goodness reach out and touch those around you; it had inspired me to become a better man, a more virtuous god. I do not deny that I have had a somewhat questionable past, and in my youth I caused more than my fair share of trouble. I would never insult your intelligence by suggesting I have been a saint, but those days are behind me and your shining example has shown me the error of my ways.'

Persephone's brow was knitting in a gesture eerily similar to her mother. 'That is wonderful,' she agreed, 'but…'

'Then why can't you give me a chance?' He trotted ahead of her and stopped her in her path. 'Why won't you let me in? Did you not offer me friendship?'

'Lord Hades-'

'Hades, Hades,' he repeated his own name, and flashed her a reticent smile. 'You need not use my title.'

'I fear I must,' Persephone said, trying to find a way around him to continue her brisk walk. He wouldn't let her. 'Fine,' she sighed, 'if you must know the truth, Lord Hades, I am beginning to wonder if it is coincidence that brought you here to the palace at the time of my stay, or some other sinister motive.'

Hades pulled a convincingly affronted, thunderstruck face, all the while thinking that this girl was sharper than she looked; but then, even diamonds have edges. 'I assure you that it is a fluke and nothing more.'

'Is that so?' Persephone demanded, her voice growing stronger and her china blue eyes challenging. In her anger she looked nothing short of adorable to him. 'Because I cannot help but feel that your interest in me goes beyond friendship.'

'I have nothing but respect for you. I should be the one taking offence that you would think me such a scoundrel as to,' he exhaled noisily as though exasperated, 'deliberately _scheme_ to coincide our visits. Do you not imagine, amidst your childish fantasies in which the world apparently revolves around you, that I should have better uses for my time?'

Persephone was startled by this, and at first she seemed speechless.

She said, 'Lord Hades, I…'

'If you do not wish my companionship,' he bellowed, now on a roll, 'you need only say so. It is not my intent to damage the repute of a _perfect_ young maiden by forcing her to spend time with a man who doesn't meet the high standards of the Olympian court.' He stomped away, his robes swishing around his strapping frame and the dusk draught caressing his dark hair as he went.

As he suspected she might, she was suddenly padding along behind him, her footfalls muffled by the grass. _Got you_, he thought with a wicked grin.

'Please don't take offence,' she begged. 'It wasn't my intent to insult you, I'm very sorry. Oh please don't go.'

A hand tugged at his back, a lost child needing attention, and he stopped.

The sounds of the garden were all around; birds sang in the tall cherry trees around them, settling down to roost, and Persephone's breathing slowed.

'Let's start over,' she offered, with another sweet little tug at his clothes. 'What do you say…H-Hades.'

His name came out in a stammer, but _holy mother earth_ did it sound good, spoken in her shy yet bold way; sweet as the song of a nightingale and without any formality. He turned to her, replacing his roguish smirk with a gallantly liberal smile.

Her lovely heart shaped face was so keen to repair the damages she thought she'd done, the sunset caught like fire in her raven hair; and Hades was so busy studying every freckle on her nose, every lash of her eyes, every contour of her cheeks, that there seemed a frozen instant in time where neither Hera nor his lust for her had any place in the world, and there was nothing-_absolutely nothing else_-beyond this girl who stood before him. There was the crumple in her brow again, and still thoroughly caught up in that swirling vortex of distorted time and mixed emotion Hades vowed; _I will kiss that cute, tiny crinkle someday. That crinkle will be mine. _He shook it off, feeling disoriented, and tried to tune in as Persephone spoke.

_That was strange_, he thought, blinking his heavy lids.

'I'm going riding tomorrow,' the goddess was chirping, her hands pressed together as if she were asking a favour. 'I was planning to ride out into the woods to this peaceful lagoon that Athena showed me once when I was a child. Father bought me the most beautiful mare to break in, though she has a bit of a temperament, so I'd be afraid to take her out alone. Would you like to come along?'

_In but a few moments I've taken her from suspicion to absolute trust; not only that, she's inviting me on a rendezvous…just the two of us_, thought Hades, his innards cheering wildly. _I'm better than I imagined, why, I could charm the birds out of the sky if I wanted! Tomorrow cannot come fast enough. Persephone shall be mine by sundown and Artemis mine by sunrise, and as the last stars fade in the morning skies I will tame the most fiery mare of all; Hera. The game is already over, sweet Queen._

But what he said, in that dangerously silky and solicitous voice that could so easily coil around a delicate throat and squeeze the life from it before it knew what was happening, was:

'I would like that very much, dear Persephone.'


	9. Act Two Scene Five

_Hmm. This chapter turned out unusually long ^^; Hades and Hera are a great pair to imagine and write. They're such a pair of schemers, and having them verbally shoot at each other is good fun. _

_As usual feedback is appreciated. Thank you all!_

* * *

**Act Two Scene Five:**

Hera shut her eyes, enjoying the calming motion of the wooden comb threading through her silken locks. The nymph behind her was piling some of her hair thick on the top of her head, and letting the rest flow down in curls that bounced around her shoulders like hyacinth blossoms. It was another uneventful morning like every other, and tedium was crushing even her will to complain that her attendant wasn't doing her hair the way she liked it. A sigh escaping her lips, she opened her eyes and critiqued her flawless appearance with the air of one who has spent so long looking at perfection that she has begun to find tiny little _im_perfections in it-a practice similar to viewing a masterpiece portrait up close only to find out it was not as lovely as it first appeared. Her reflection's cool, steely gaze met her own, her complexion pink and radiant from her honey moisturiser and her eyelids swept dramatically over with charcoal, making her lashes appear long and striking. Her neurotic pride never allowed her to look anything less than her very best, even when she had nowhere to go and no-one to see in this mindless beehive of a palace.

The drone…no…nymph, having finished arranging a petunia and amethyst laden tiara in Hera's hair-she liked the rich, imposing majesty of purple hues as it reminded everyone of her regal status-reached past the Queen to the dressing table she sat at, and retrieved a small pot of blush. She dabbed a small amount to each of Hera's well-defined cheekbones, completing the imperfect perfection.

'Is this satisfactory, my Lady?' the attendant asked with a tremor of anxiety, stepping back so that Hera's beatific visage alone filled the polished glass of the mirror.

'Nothing is satisfactory,' Hera replied in a wintry, bored monotone.

The nymph was at a loss for this, she looked briefly up to the candelabra hanging from the ceiling, as though it might offer some assistance for how to deal with her terrifyingly unpredictable mistress; but it let her down by staying silent and inanimate as candelabras tend to do.

She was saved as another nymph hurried into the large, white painted boudoir and knelt behind the Queen. The first nymph took this opportunity to scarper while the second spoke. 'My Lady,' she whispered. 'Lord Hades is here. He wishes to see you; he says you know what it is concerning.'

For the first time in a couple of days, a smile broke the fixed plaster of Hera's statuesque face. 'Send him in,' she whispered, and though she tried to keep her voice neutral notes of excitement crept into it. 'You may leave us alone.'

'Very good, my Lady,' said the nymph, and dashed away.

Hera whirled around on her plush velour cushion, plumped her hair with one hand, and waited. And then he came. The very furnishings darkened and seemed to cower as his shadow was cast upon them; he instantly owned any room he strode into. He was wearing his trademark black; as cloaking as midnight itself.

'Hera,' he said pleasantly, inclining his head to hers. His deep brown eyes, ever animate pools of brown, revealed amusement.

'Hades,' she returned, also nodding. 'How goes our little…undertaking?'

'Ah ah ah-you mean _my_ little undertaking,' Hades corrected, making himself comfy on a chaise longue, his elbows up on the fittings revealing how his common manners were so incongruent in this opulent place. A secretive, nefarious smile toyed with his lips. 'I am the one doing all the work while you sit on your laurels. You needn't worry, Hera. I am an excellent undertaker.'

He grinned at her and she felt the familiar flood of conflicting emotions that he stirred like a tempest within her; disgust as his cavalier crassness, her heartbeat in her throat for how unfairly gorgeous he looked without effort, the needing, craving, _burning_ desire for the only one who had ever matched her in both wits and power…

_Damn him._

Hera leaned back against her dresser, the edge of the table digging into her spine and making her back arch just enough for her cleavage to jut out. It was his punishment for getting her so unduly flustered so early in the day; pure torture because he never was any good at looking without touching. She pushed back her shoulders to heighten the effect, and as she suspected, Hades' eyes promptly strayed to her chest, his gaze running over her curves in hot, liquid appreciation.

Unable to repress a smile at how obnoxiously predictable men could be, she calmly reached for her snuffbox. It was a tiny golden trinket enriched with enamels and set with diamonds and other precious stones; a gift from one of her many jilted lovers who pleaded and sent offerings for renewed attentions to no avail.

'Artemis has been…taken care of?' she asked offhandedly, taking a pinch of mentholated spearmint snuff in between her index finger and thumb and meticulously powdering each nostril.

Hades didn't look so amused now; his entire disposition clouded over and his lithe body tensed like a tiger about to spring. Hera felt a glimmer of satisfaction; a flame being lit in her soul. She knew he hated this particular indulgence of hers.

'Don't do that in front of me,' he growled, while she inhaled delicately with one sharp sniff. 'It's unladylike and repulsively unbecoming.'

'Go to Tartarus,' she laughed, stretching for more, and like a wild beast he was suddenly upon her, making the fatal mistake of believing he could overpower her.

And then he was stumbling, reeling backwards, his hand clutching the red imprint on his cheek. He fired an obscenity at her, and she laughed harder.

'Sit down you fool. I have a busy day ahead of me and no time for your silly behaviour. How dare you try to order _me_ around?' Unhurriedly and deliberately, so as to antagonise him further, she dusted more sweet powder onto the tip of her perfectly shaped nostrils. She took great pleasure in this luxury that belonged to the gods alone; though she had no doubt the day would come when the stupid lowly humans got a hold of tobacco and cheapened it with their greedy compulsions. 'Have you taken care of Artemis?' she repeated.

Hades' eyes flashed as she sniffed once more. 'No,' he said in a low, tense voice, 'but I have made contact. I offered to be her calligraphy teacher, and the dim little twit accepted! She all but fainted at the sight of me.'

He was smiling again now as he resumed his seat. _There's nothing like self-gratification to cheer a man up_, Hera thought with scathing mordancy.

'You could make things go more smoothly if you were to throw in a kind word for me,' he said, lifting an eyebrow and still stroking his bruised cheek-_and bruised ego_. 'She would listen to you.'

'Everyone listens to me,' Hera spat, as though this were stating the obvious. She was already one step ahead of him. After a third inhalation she put away her snuffbox; it was fun to keep taunting him but she was beginning to feel light headed.

Hades concealed his laughter in an unconvincing cough. 'If you say so, sweetness and light,' he said, his tone mocking. 'The truth is that Artemis is the furthest thing from my mind right now. Persephone; allegedly the most virtuous maiden in the kingdom, has invited me out riding with her tomorrow. To a nice _secluded_ lagoon in the forest, where we can be all alone. Anything could happen.'

The twinkle in his eyes and the suggestive licking of his lips left little to the imagination as to exactly what he would have happen.

'Really?' Hera asked, yawning behind her hand.

Hades wilted somewhat. He craved attention as much as she. 'I'm serious Hera; this rendezvous is happening tomorrow. Persephone asked me _and only me_ for assistance taming her new filly; do you not care that you have just about lost our bet?'

Hera's green eyes located her perfume container; it was a small ceramic pot in the shape of a ram, a gift that Ares had brought home for her after one of his victories. Her son was an unruly man; a cowardly warrior and a vicious drunkard, but on the rare occasions when he won a battle he returned to her arms as the most generous and doting son any mother could ask for. Other than Hades he was her only confidante in this cruel, uncaring world. If only he didn't have eyes for that empty headed harlot Aphrodite…

She daubed the scent on her slender wrists; a sensuous blend of mandarin, blackcurrant and peony, and pointedly ignored her guest.

After a lengthy thirty seconds which stretched into infinity, Hades' patience finally snapped. 'ANSWER ME!' he roared, standing, though Hera noted with glee that he didn't dare come near her again for fear of another smack.

How she loved bringing him to the boil.

'Why should I care?' she murmured, staring out of the lacy curtains at the sky. 'You are no closer to winning our bet than you were when we started. You're utterly pathetic; you've have made no progress whatsoever.' Her peony pink lips smirked. 'Unless you count signing yourself up as a tutor and a stable hand.'

Hades looked ready to blow his top again, but at that moment there was a soft knock on the door. He glanced at the door, then at her, and controlled himself, breathing deeply.

'Come,' Hera called in her best nonchalant lady-of-the-house manner.

The nymph who had fixed her hair knelt bashfully in the entryway. 'Please my Lady,' she said, 'I beg your forgiveness for intruding, but Lady Artemis is in the foyer. She insists on having an audience with you right away, and she will not take no for an answer.'

'Oh,' said Hera, with a mask of faux astonishment. 'So she's the impatient type. Sounds like you,' she told Hades, making him glare, and she waved at the nymph. 'Bring her up, I'll see her now.'

'You'll what?' Hades barked, as the nymph disappeared. He rose to his feet faster than Zeus could throw a thunderbolt. Abject panic was scrawled on his handsome face. 'She can't see me here; she can't see us together!'

'Well.' Hera crossed one long, tapered leg over the other, her skin rustling against the soft, diaphanous lemon fabric of her dress. 'You'd better hide then.'

Hades' eyes boggled and his jaw fell open in such a ridiculous expression that she threw back her head and laughed cruelly again, and by the time her giggles had abated she could hear voices in the passageway outside. Hades, still darting around the room, launched himself behind the plush settee at the last second as the door swished open.

Artemis breezed in, her face wretched.

'Lady Hera,' she gasped, because none of Zeus' disgusting pack of illegitimates was allowed to call her 'mother', 'this is a matter of extreme urgency so I hoped you could you spare a minute of your time?'

'Of course, of course. Take a seat child, you look as though you've been chased by wild boar,' Hera said, her voice dripping with overdone concern.

Artemis unwittingly did so on the chaise longue which Hades had leapt behind, bringing her thumbnail to her lip and chewing on it with the nervous apprehension of a child awaiting punishment. 'I must ask advice,' she whispered, 'and I know not who else to turn to, as all of the other goddesses seem to be out on errand today.'

'You don't say!' Hera gasped, well aware of this fact as she'd been the one to orchestrate it. 'How very curious. What is it you require advice about, little one?'

Artemis shifted. 'L-Lord Hades,' she mumbled.

The man in question popped out from behind Artemis's back, his black hair rumpled into disarray and his glower fierce. Hera had difficulty controlling her pretty features.

'Lord Hades?' she repeated, as though she'd never encountered the name. 'Why in the name of Gaia would you want advice about a man like that? A chaste maiden such as you should not even speak his name!'

Hades puffed out his cheeks in mock offense, all traces of his previous anger and seriousness gone. She ignored his devilishly cute 'naughty little boy' routine.

'I know. I know he is widely considered a dangerous god…but.' Artemis gulped and blushed her awful, splotchy blush. 'But I wanted to know what you thought of him. If he knew him personally…and if…well…if you could counsel me in whether or not it is a wise idea for him to be…my…calligraphy instructor.'

'Calligraphy instructor?' Hera said innocently, beginning to feel like a parrot. 'I see…your letters to your brother. Well, I admit that calligraphy that is Hades' field of expertise. His skills are astoundingly powerful and beautiful and fluid; some of the best I've ever seen.'

The double entendre flew far over Artemis' naïve little head.

'_Some of the best?_' Hades mouthed at her, irritated, and then mouthed something else which she didn't catch but would have bet her snuff box was '_I'm the best you've ever had, woman._'

'You think he would be a good tutor for me?' Artemis asked shyly. 'Because I'm worried that he may want to teach me other things beside…calligraphy. My vow of chastity prevents me from even having male suitors, and I am worried-'

'Let me ask _you_ something, little one,' Hera said, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. 'Your half sister Athena from my husband's _first marriage_,' she hissed these words like a venomous snake spitting poison, 'is also a virgin goddess under a vow of chastity, is she not?'

'Um, yes,' Artemis nodded. 'That's correct.'

'No, it's not,' Hera chuckled, with a tolerant smile.

'I…um…I don't understa-'

'I caught the little wench crawling out of my Ares' bed one morning, bare as the day she was born. What business do you suppose the lovely, self-controlled, sensible Athena would be doing wrapped in the bedsheets soiled by the evidence of her own lust, if she were truly the virgin goddess she claims to be?'

Artemis was dumbstruck. 'I…um…I had no idea…'

'No one does, darling. That's the point.' Hera leaned close and shut one emerald eye in a conspiratorial wink. 'If no-one knows, then it didn't happen. Am I right?'

'But I'd know,' Artemis squeaked, shaking her head until her beige locks flew around her face in a tizzy. 'I'd know that I did wrong.'

Hera scoffed. 'What is wrong about it? You are young now, but as you grow older you will learn that women have desires as much as men. Desires that will wrack your body and plague your mind like insanity, unless you tend to them. Wouldn't you prefer your first experience to be in the arms of a man who you can trust; who is well versed in the art of the senses and can instruct you in form and pleasure, rather than a wild, reckless fling undertaken one night when you can no longer control your urges; a fling that in your heedless yearning might jeopardise your title as a virgin goddess?'

Artemis hesitated. 'Would it really come to that?'

'Yes! There is no such thing as a virgin goddess, darling. They all break their vows eventually, and after that it merely comes down to who can hide their indiscretions and who can't. Aphrodite, for example,' she added, pleased to get in a shot about her nemesis, 'was once a virgin goddess, many years ago. However her libido was so out of control that it didn't take long for her charade to crumble down around her.' Hera lounged back, her energy spent. 'You asked my advice, and I have given it you. Anything that Hades offers to teach you, I feel it will be in your best interests to learn in the long run.'

'Thank you, Lady Hera,' Artemis whispered, rising to leave. 'I never imagined being a virgin goddess would be such a task. I appreciate your advice.'

Hades, whose head had been resting on his hands as he watched them chat over the back of the settee, dived again like a gopher down a hole.

'One more thing,' Hera said, and now her emerald eyes were sparkling sweetly. 'If you want a chance to get to know Hades better in a controlled environment, I happen to know he is going riding with Persephone tomorrow. Why don't you ask your sister if you can tag along? I am confident she wouldn't mind.'

There was a stifled, muffled noise from behind the settee.

Artemis brightened. 'Why, thank you Lady Hera! I will do just that.'

She scampered away; a graduate from Hera's school of lies.

As the door swung shut Hades arose, his face murderous while Hera parted her sumptuous lips and flashed him a white grin.

'You conniving bitch,' he said.


	10. Act Three Scene One

_My huge, genuine, resounding thanks to all constant readers who have given feedback. I love you for it. I really do. Apologies for lack of updates lately, its exam time and I'm dying of stress. On the plus side, summer vacation soon. Woo-hoo ^-^_

_A Persephone-esque chapter now, humbly submitted for the enjoyment of you lovely lot._

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**Act Three Scene One:**

Persephone waited in the dappled shade of the old, wizened oak, enjoying the breeze on her skin and the softly whinnying neighs and the horsey smell that drifted over from the stables. She herself smelled as light and fresh and clean as the spring water she'd bathed in that very morning. She had brushed her hair until it gleamed like the Milky Way on a frosty night, and had yes, even applied a little lip colour. She did so quite unconsciously, and upon gazing at her reflection had then asked herself why.

_Lord Hades is my father's elder brother, a powerful and influential god_, her reflection replied. _It would be rude not to make an effort._

But somehow, and perhaps it was only a trick of the light, her eyes seemed to say something else. Something in them moved, like a ripple in a pond, and she was reminded of one of the wise sayings hat her mother was always parroting at her; _still waters run deep_.

There wasn't any other reason she wanted to look pretty for Lord Hades, was there?

_He is a somewhat handsome man, if you happen to like the macho, masculine type_..._as my sister clearly does, if the strange conversation we had last night is anything to go on_.

Persephone had realised in the midst of all this ruminating (that had, for some reason, brought heat to her cheeks) that she was making herself late for her rendezvous, and out of her room she had flown without a second thought to her motives. On the way, her mind recalled how flushed little Artemis had been, how cold and sweaty her hands had been as she grabbed Persephone's and begged a favour, how her little voice had trembled, reminding Persephone of the trill of the stray white kitten she'd been feeding a saucer of milk to each night after her mother went to bed. Artemis' story of how Hades had offered to be her tutor and how she only wanted to see if he was truly a man of good character before she accepted didn't ring true to the level of distraction she'd been in, fluttering about Persephone's room; bouncing off the walls and chirping like a starling that had flown in by the window and couldn't find its way out. Persephone hadn't dared to ask her dear younger sister the blindingly obvious: 'are you by chance interested in…_dating_…Lord Hades?' The words, even now, made her shudder. Even if Artemis was having a fanciful and innocuous crush, as so many young girls her age did, of course nothing would ever come of it just as the tender lamb will never court the fierce lion. It was an illogical, laughable contemplation.

Yet still. Restively standing here and waiting for her sister and her uncle while listening to the murmur of the horses stomp and snuffle in the warm wafts of hay and manure, Persephone was inarguably troubled.

_My sister and my uncle together…the concept only bothers me so because I'm worried for her safety. Yes._

Hades was the first to arrive, vaunting along over the horizon of trees in his cloaks of black and holding the reins of the biggest horse Persephone had ever seen; a mighty behemoth of a creature that strutted behind her master, her eyes of fire and tenebrous coat of black sheen glistening on her flanks under the sweltering sun. As Hades hailed Persephone a smile grew slowly upon his lips and crinkled his eyes, and for a brief millisecond she saw the shadow of the handsome man her uncle might've been if not burdened with the cruel destiny of running the Underworld.

'Good morning,' he called, when he was close enough to be heard.

'Good morning to you,' Persephone replied, and the affection that swelled in her heart as he approached was utterly unconscious. 'I'm impressed with your mare, and I must confess, a little frightened.'

Hades laughed, but not unkindly. 'Allow me to introduce you to my favourite girl Blinky. She's a docile dame; don't let her appearance fool you.' He brought the mammoth beast to a halt in front of the stables, and her hooves, big enough to cover continents, gracefully ceased motion. The mare's blazing eyes were half shut beneath her long lashes and she snuffled, swishing her silver tail in a passive manner that Persephone found rather charming. Her mane was like a shower of stardust in the wake of a comet.

'May I pet her?' Persephone asked, enchanted.

Hades' smile widened, nearly touching his ears. 'You may. She's generally very good with people...unlike me.'

Persephone stepped forward and held out her hand. _Goodness_, she thought in shock, _this creature towers over me, like Hades himself_. Blinky took two uninterested sniffles of the girl's hand, and then shifted her weight impatiently. Beneath the veil of misty lashes Persephone noted with awe that Blinky's eyes were vinaceous, a rich hue of burgundy like wine swirling in a glass.

'She's looking forward to this,' Hades said softly, into Persephone's ear. The girl jumped. At some point he'd crept up behind her. 'I haven't had time to ride her lately. She can pick up incredible speeds when I take her out in the open. She's a wild one really; she doesn't like to be cooped up.'

He ran a hand over Blinky's cheek in a caress of pure fondness. Persephone watched this, her heart swelling like high tide.

'You love her, don't you?' she asked.

Hades started, looked from the girl to the horse and back again, and laughed. It was a reedy, nervous laugh. 'Yes, I do,' he admitted, his deep brown eyes so very warm. 'She's the one woman who I can run free with, the one woman who never lets me down.'

Persephone was touched and didn't know what to say to this, and Hades, who was standing before her awkwardly, moved over and began to saddle up Blinky. Persephone had the notion that he'd told her something very personal, and now wished he hadn't.

'Which one of those lovely ladies is yours?' he asked, his voice a tad gruffer than usual, jerking his head with causal abandon in the direction of the stables. Even this gesture was considered uncouth by godly standards, and Persephone could practically _hear_ her mother sneering if she ever saw it, but she didn't care.

'The little Arabian,' she said, moving to the stable door and resting her elbows upon it. 'Father says he got her at a steal at a human market…and that she's perfect for me.'

Hades, finished with Blinky, appeared at her side and leaned over the stable door. His head lolled to one side, and he grinned like a five year old lad about to do something mischievous. Persephone found herself unable to look away. 'Arabians are known for their beauty, intelligence and lissom movements,' he murmured slyly. He met her gaze with his own, direct flirtatiousness with a hint of arrogance. 'She _is _perfect for you.'

For a second Persephone went hot with pleasure, and then hot with anger. She was boiling, and her face was heating and tears were stinging her eyes, and in one swift sweep she wrenched open the stable door, nearly knocking Hades flying, and went in to find her horse. 'We'd better get her saddled,' she said, curt yet trembling. 'Artemis will be here soon.'

She cornered the filly, which eyed her suspiciously and whinnied, and though Persephone was a little frightened she was too mad to show it and far too mad to take any bad behaviour. She held the creature still, muttering soothing noises that came out sounding more like oaths, and Hades walked past holding the saddle. While he worked he shot her the occasional wounded, confused glance that she ignored.

She was having none of it. How dare he look at her like that? How dare he.

While he'd spoken to her of his love for Blinky Persephone would have bet her immortal life that the words were the truth, and she found them beautiful in their naked honesty. But that smirk he'd just given her, and that awful sycophancy, viscid with insincerity and amatory intent…it made her shudder. Maybe he was so used to chatting women up that he couldn't turn it off, but that was little excuse.

She was having _none_ of it.

With Hades' help she silently led the creature out into the light, leaving the comforting mustiness of the stable behind. The mare lifted her white streaked muzzle to the high sky, and seemed to fill her lungs with the fresh summer air. Persephone thought how striking the filly was, with her mahogany coat and her black mane as dark as Persephone's own. Blinky was occupied grazing and didn't take notice of her new, smaller companion.

'What are you going to call her?' asked Hades suddenly, and though Persephone ought to be used to his penchant for materialising beside her and whispering into her ear by now, she feared it would always make her jump.

'Gem,' she replied in a brusque monosyllable.

'A fitting name,' Hades said.

She could feel his eyes cautiously sweeping over her, trying to understand why she had suddenly closed herself off. She began to feel guilty and ashamed. It was not only unkind to act so childish, it was also discourteous. He probably hadn't meant to offend her with his comment. She tried to smile.

'I thought we might take lunch on our way home from the lagoon,' she said with a brittle politeness. 'There's a lovely open field in the hills with a view of the palace, perfect for taking an interlude and sampling some fresh fruit.'

'Sounds perfect,' Hades agreed affably. He paused. 'I'll be damned,' he said suddenly, making her eyebrows rise, 'you still wear that?'

Persephone wrinkled her nose, affronted and bewildered, and then saw that he was referring to the emerald apple brooch clasped upon her bosom. 'Why yes, I love it. I've worn it as my lucky charm since I was a child. Is there something wrong with my wearing it?' she added coldly.

'No, no.' Hades was frowning, the most curious mixture of happiness and sadness. 'I am most glad you found use of it. Demeter scoffed when I gave it you; she told me an infant had no use for trinkets.' Another sad smile, and he rubbed the back of his neck, turning his head to the wind. Somewhere above them, a lark sang its jaunty song.

'You…you're the one who gave me this?' Persephone's mind was blank with shock. 'But Mama always said…Mama told me that there had been no card with the gift, that she never knew who gave it to me.'

'Well.' Another kind of smile now played at Hades' heavy, sensual mouth. 'Maybe the card fell off.'

But Persephone knew he was thinking exactly what she was thinking: _Maybe your mother didn't want you to know I gave it to you, because let us face facts; she hasn't exactly been subtle about the fact that she HATES MY GUTS._

'Oh Lord Hades,' she said. Her fingertips touched the sharp ridges and the smooth facets of the talisman she'd reached for every time she scraped her knee, every time she had a fight with her mother, every time she missed the Olympian palace. It had always been there for her. _He_ had always been there for her, and she hadn't known it until today. Her anger at him was forgotten in the calm serenity of the crickets chirping and the rustle of the branches of the gnarled old oaks as the fresh summer zephyr danced through them and the brown of his earthy eyes that refused her admittance into their unknowable depths.

'I picked it for you because it matched the colours of your eyes when you were born,' he went on, still studiously averting his gaze and watching the mackerel formation in the blue infinity above. 'Did you know that your eyes were once as green as spring in bloom? They only turned that ravishing blue tone after a week or so. I picked the brooch for you because at the time I was rather smitten with a lady who had green eyes just like yours, crisp as an apple and sparkling as a jewel. It was my wish that you grow to be as beautiful as that lady.' He finally faced her, slowly and tentatively. He touched her chin. 'As it turns out, you've outdone her in both beauty and charm.'

Persephone, overcome with a freshet of compliments, drowning in a deluge of emotion, nodded like a puppet on a string.

Artemis came at that moment, dragging behind her a wilful palomino, and Persephone was both relived and irritated at her presence. Hades left her side to greet Artemis and calm down the palomino, who was bucking and shrilling at the sight of Gem and Blinky (though the sight of Blinky was, in fairness, enough to send most screaming and running in the opposite direction) and Persephone took stock of her fluttering heart and her weak legs and prepared herself for the day ahead.

Hades was now laughing and speaking to Artemis, his voice as smooth and sweet as whipped cream on a strawberry dessert, and Artemis was going as red as the proverbial strawberries.

Persephone felt hot breath on her ear and jumped for the third time, half expecting Hades, but it was Blinky. She was done with grazing and keen to go, and demonstrated this by shoving her huge nose in Persephone's ear.

'You have no sense of personal space,' Persephone told the horse in exasperation, pushing its muzzle gently away. 'Just like your master.'

Hades had his hands around Artemis, helping her up onto the horse (which was inexplicably named Marshmallow, despite the fact that it was all gangly feet and legs and looked like no marshmallow Persephone had ever seen), and Persephone felt a hot current running through her at the sight of them, even more shudder-worthy than a horse licking your earlobe in gusto.

It had a vitriolic, bitter aftertaste.

It felt a lot like jealousy.

She fingered her brooch, her gift. Artemis didn't have one.

_My sister and my uncle together…the concept only bothers me so because I'm worried for her safety. Right?_


	11. Act Three Scene Two

_I wonder how many of you are sharpening objects to throw them at me, hehe. Sorry this chapter has been a long time in the making! I like to bring my A-game to this fic, and I haven't been able to do that up til now. I promise not to abandon you guys for so long again. I do solemnly swear... :D  
Here we see a more playful side to Persephone, hopefully breaking some preconceptions about her. I don't want to portray her as stuffy at all, otherwise she wouldn't make a good pairing with our devilish Hades, now would she? ;D To all reviewers: you are beautiful, wonderful people who have inspired me to get my rear in gear and come back to this story. Hugs and kisses to you!!_

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**Act Three Scene Two:**

Hades inhaled deeply as Blinky trotted further into the winding woodland pathway. The air was ripe with the enduring aroma of wild garlic and sweet honeysuckle, blending with the rich scent of the soft soil in the wake of the summer shower that had passed over last night. Even one glorious cool lungful seemed to wipe clean all the impurities of one's soul, he thought, though that was a bit of a joke in his case.

It would take a lot more than fresh air to cleanse _his_ soul.

Persephone rode ahead on his left, Artemis lagging a tad behind on his right, and every so often one or both of them would shoot him a glance; Artemis' young eyes bright and curious and Persephone's prettily discerning eyes narrowed, suspicious. Hades, usually a man thrilled to receive a visual examination from the ladies and more than happy to reciprocate, felt like he was wilting under the intense heat of this insatiable scrutiny.

_What are they staring at?_ he wondered, baffled and weary. _This is ridiculous. I can't make a move toward either of them with the other constantly watching. I wonder what that witch Hera has been telling them behind my back…I'm going to wring her gorgeous, slender diamond-clad throat for this…_

And for the next five minutes he happily contented himself with lurid scenes of how he would punish the queen when he finally laid his hands on her. Bondage, blindfolding, spanking; oh yes, nothing would be too good for _Her Majesty_ when Hades finally had his way with her. He spitefully planned for her all the things he'd allowed her to do to him back when he'd been under her spell. The next time he conquered Hera would not only be his victory in this delightful little game-it would also be his revenge. He had been utterly infatuated with her-a smitten child at her beck and call-oh yes, that was shameful but undeniable; and that dominating power she'd held over him lingered even now. Hera's sensual nuances roused him violently before he even touched her-it was in the slinky way she moved, the giddying thrill of her scent, and the times they'd shared a bed chamber neither fooled around. They each had a serious goal in mind, the voracious goal of self-gratification, but Hera's steel will had overcome his own and Hades, as he'd never done before, had fallen on his knees as her servant. The blazing moment of flaming hatred when they merged exhilarated her as much as it did him, but next time he would be the one in control. Next time it would be the Queen brought to her knees.

'Lord Hades.'

He started, coming around from the delicious fantasy in which he could _hear_ Hera catching short little breaths, see her blazing, baleful green eyes burning up at him, _taste_ the supple skin of her milky white breasts heaving and glistening in beads of salty sweat…

The shy little voice called his name again. With difficulty, he looked over his shoulder. 'Yes, my dear?' His voice came out a little high and croaky, an unfortunate effect of dreaming of Hera that frequently plagued him, and he harrumphed, trying to even it. 'Is something wrong?'

'My saddle is slipping,' Artemis said. She was clutching the reins in a death grip, nearly strangling poor Marshmallow. Every step the little horse took seemed to shudder through her; she was not a confident rider like her sister. 'I am afraid I may fall. Can you help?'

Hades pulled on Blinky's reins and prepared to pull over to the side, but to his surprise Gem smartly cut his mare off and pranced past. Persephone flashed him an uncharacteristically hollow smile as she went to her sister's aid.

'Here,' she said, leaning down and tightening the saddle. 'Pay attention as I show you how to do it. If you don't practice you shan't ever be able to ride by yourself.'

'But my servants usually do these things for me,' Artemis mumbled, peering down.

'Lord Hades is not your servant,' Persephone chided, a tad snappishly. 'You cannot go running to him for every little thing.'

Artemis sneaked another glance at Hades, blushed, bit her lip and quickly hung her head.

Bitter at being thwarted and concernedly wondering what had overhauled Persephone's tender demeanour so suddenly, Hades steered Blinky away from the goddesses and continued up the path. _Women_, he grumped silently. _They give you fever one minute and frostbite the next_. He felt a bit useless, an unwanted, unnecessary fixture, and it wasn't a feeling he enjoyed. The gentle clip-clop of Marshmallow and Gem soon sounded as they caught up to Blinky.

'We will be there soon,' said Persephone, and managed to make even this simple statement sound irreverently indifferent.

What had the put the bee in her bonnet today Hades didn't know, but he didn't like it. He voiced his thoughts aloud.

'Being cheerful suits you better,' he said smoothly.

Persephone glanced quizzically at him. Her delicate face was mutely aloof, critical, a challenge. Hades liked a challenge. 'What do you mean?'

'You seem out of sorts today. Are you feeling well?'

'It rained last night,' Artemis called out again, interrupting their quiet moment. 'Seph doesn't like the rain.'

Persephone ears went a flourishing shade of vermilion. 'Please do not refer to me by that childish nickname, Artemis.'

'Seph,' Hades repeated, trying out the epithet on his lips, which were playfully smirking. 'You know, I don't care for the rain either.'

But she did not answer and instead turned away, setting off toward the lake which was now visible through the overhanging branches and nettles. It smelled earthy here, the woodland ambience covering the floral notes with its overpowering natural odour of pine trees, loam and animals. The lagoon was large, with a perfect stillness only broken by the gentle ripple of reeds breaking the surface, and further in it had the dark lustre of very deep water. Speckled daylight broke through the canopy of trees above, hitting the gloom of the lagoon in wraithlike shafts of pure white. Persephone had dismounted and thrown her sandals aside, dashing toward it before Hades and Artemis had even rode into the clearing.

'I didn't know we were going swimming,' he called out to Persephone, amused, but it seemed she didn't even hear him.

Artemis dismounted with difficulty beside him, slipping to the muddy ground with an untidy thump, but Hades had eyes for only one.

He watched her.

She dipped a dainty toe into the water and must have found it comfortable, for she hitched up her blue skirts to her knees and strode into the water with all the confidence of a bird taking to the sky. Mischievous determination lit her face.

'Persephone!' Hades exclaimed, voice husky with worry. He saw what she was doing and his heart began to pound in his chest. But before he could stop her, she was chest deep in it.

Persephone received the ice cold stream against her breasts and limbs, the fathomless cold enveloping her and ripping a gasp from her pink lips, the thin cotton of her azure peplos clinging to her body and weighing her down, the train of it billowing across the surface. Her raven hair streaming out behind her as she trod the water, she looked like a bizarre Ophelia. Paddling using only her ankles, she spread out her arms and turned to Hades and Artemis, standing on the banks. The horses grazed peaceably behind them.

'Come on in,' she laughed, her pale, wet cheeks flushed with pleasure. At least she didn't look angry anymore. 'The water feels wonderful! So very invigorating!'

'You're mad,' Hades exclaimed, entertained and bemused at all once. He bent and touched a finger to the water and recoiled-it was colder than ice. 'Completely barmy.'

Artemis was looking from Persephone to Hades, as though making up her mind. 'Um,' she said, pulling at her own peplos, 'Should I undress before…?'

'Absolutely not.' Persephone twirled around in the water, her hair and clothes drifting out in swirls and making her look like an airborne ballerina. 'It would be indecent to disrobe before Lord Hades.'

Artemis made a little noise like she was unsure, but moved toward the water. As soon as she was close enough, Persephone paddled to shore and tugged at her sister until Artemis collapsed in the deep and with her. The goddesses splashed each other and laughed, and Hades still stood on the banks, a solitary lone figure in black.

He felt as though he was some lecherous satyr peeking out at two unknowing water sprites as they giggled and frolicked. 'Completely barmy,' he repeated, but the more he watched Persephone, the more he understood.

For the girl under her mother's thumb, the girl who did not speak unless spoken to, the girl taken from her birthright of the Olympian palace to live a modest life in a human village, the girl who was not allowed perfume or jewellery because Demeter believed these decorations were for loose women, not ladies, the girl who had literature crammed down her throat while she craved for poetry; it was no wonder that Persephone had such a rebellious streak hidden within her. It was no wonder she felt the blazing urge to spontaneously run into a loch fully clothed, ruining her dress, getting mire from the river bed under her manicured fingers, submerging herself in the depths and yet knowing that for once she had full control to swim back to shore when she pleased. He grinned as she submerged herself briefly and then broke the surface, her back perfectly arched and her tummy skyward, her swimming strokes deft and natural. Persephone had a faint luminosity and the grace of a mermaid in the water, a sharp contrast to Artemis' vulgar, clumsy splashing motions like an amphibious beast with its legs tied together.

She was backstroking lazily in his direction, and Hades tensed. Undressed she wasn't, but she might as well have been. For Artemis this didn't matter; her body was still slight and unformed like a boy, but Persephone had matured beyond her sister. The soaked, skin-tight blue fabric left little to the imagination; it hugged her every curve and displayed even her nipples, which were pert and rigid like little rosebuds due to the cold. She seemed to have no terrible, satisfied knowledge of her own naked beauty. This innocence set her apart from every woman he'd ever known and made him want her all the more. Hades gulped.

'Are you not going to join us?' Persephone asked, her upside down blue eyes teasing and enquiring.

'You know, I don't think I will,' Hades said, kneeling, and was relieved that his voice did not betray just how excited he was.

She pressed, controlled, mocking; 'The Lord of the Underworld is cowardly?'

'Not cowardly. Just sane.'

She laughed. The sound was a beautiful, free-spirited resonance.

Hades couldn't think of the last time he'd heard Hera laugh like that.

'Not a bad swimmer, am I?' she said, jokingly gloating, her eyes alone betraying that she was earnestly seeking approval.

Hades wasn't sure, but he could have _sworn_ that she was _flirting_ with him. But no, surely that couldn't be!

'Nereid or not, you are going to catch a terrible cold on the way home,' he warned, delighted to be seeing this new unruly side of her and trying to encourage it with his authoritative tone. Was it possible that he'd ever thought her a pampered, prudish little princess? It didn't seem plausible now.

'I shan't.' Persephone closed her eyes, floating. 'In this sunny summer weather we will dry off nicely. Besides, I needed some exercise to work up my appetite for lunch.'

'I admit I had no idea you could be so reckless. I thought you the studious, serious type, what with all the books you read…and your unofficial vow of chastity…'

Persephone smiled up at him. 'Everyone thinks I take after my mother,' she said, licking a droplet of water from the tip of her nose. 'They always forget who my father is.'

And with a bold wink she pushed off from the bank to Artemis again, drifting away and singing softly, leaving Hades entranced. He was grinning, but there was a great solemnity of goodness and sincere, intrigued intent in his massive brown eyes when he murmured under his breath,

'I see. It isn't the filly who needs taming, my lovely Persephone. It's you.'


	12. Act Three Scene Three

_As always, great love and thanks to all reviewers. You guys have such lovely things to say, and I very much enjoy reading your feedback and appreciate the support like you wouldn't believe. I hope MM can continue to amuse you._

_On with the ficcy now!!_

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**Act Three Scene Three:**

The warm midday breeze danced through the endless rouge-red poppies in the field, whispering through the fine tendrils of Artemis' fair brown hair as she slept peaceably as an angel. Using only her fingertip, Persephone stroked away one lock of hair from her sister's face, her gentle smile sweet and maternal.

'Out like a candle in the wind,' she laughed. 'One would think it was her that had run miles through the woods, and not her horse.'

Hades sat the other side of Artemis, on the woven patchwork blanket Persephone had brought along. It was threadbare, pink and blue, probably a relic from her childhood. The three of them were resting and taking lunch beneath the shadow of an old apple tree; the vast expanse of poppies in the green field, the long grass swaying back and forth like waves in the ocean, providing them with a perfect scenic view. The sky was the palest hue of blue, and there was not a nimbus in sight. Gem and Marshmallow happily roamed the meadow to the melodious song of the birds, while Blinky seemed content to stay in the shade of the tree nearby and munch from her feedbag, not straying far from her master.

Hades gazed at Persephone as she stroked Artemis' slumberous face with the back of her hand, and it struck him how tender she could be after acting so passionate and hasty only an hour before. She had been right-her clothes were indeed drying quickly in the warm altitude of the mountains beneath the summer sun-but still Hades did not quite trust himself to lower his eyes below her chin.

_If she catches me gaping at her goodies __she will undoubtedly label me as a lech and never give me a chance. Not that temperance is an easy feat to accomplish, what with her soaking clothes clinging to her body and her goodies on full, wet, gloriously exposed display. Jumping into a lake like that and then walking around soaked to the skin like Aphrodite rising nude out of the surf is deliberately waving a veritable panoply of goodies under my nose. What does she mean by it…?_

But as Hades sighed, plucking a red apple and polishing it on his chlamys, he reasoned that Persephone probably didn't mean anything by it at all. The Goddess of Spring, most virtuous maiden in the land, wasn't that what they called her, wasn't that why he'd chosen her in the first place: for the giddying thrill of the chase? What did she know of flirtation? She was just a naive girl enjoying a moment of impetuous and adventurous freedom. Hades was glad of one thing; that her strange, brooding mood seemed to have been washed away in her spur-of-the-moment bath. _Without Persephone's skinny dip this whole day might actually have been_ _awkward_, Hades thought, and nearly chuckled aloud at the absurdity of the statement.

'Artemis is terribly pretty isn't she?'

Persephone's comment came out of the blue, and Hades nearly dropped his apple halfway to his open mouth.

Slowly, he lowered it. He licked his lips; his mouth seemed to have gone dry. 'What?' he managed. It was a surprisingly unsmooth reply for him, one so witty and wary, but that was one question he was simply not prepared to answer.

Persephone ceased the stroking and busied herself with finding her own apple in the picnic basket she'd brought along, carried in Gem's saddle. 'Artemis is so pretty. Far prettier than me.' Persephone held the green apple clenched in one hand, staring at it intently as though it were a mystic orb that might reveal the future. 'Many say that her vows of chastity will be a waste on such a beautiful woman.' She took a small bite, chewing thoughtfully, and turned her concentrated, probing eyes onto Hades. She swallowed, licked away a droplet that escaped the side of her mouth, and then asked primly, 'What do you make of her?'

The old phrase '_stuck between a rock and a very hard place'_ suddenly made sense to the Lord of the Underworld. Waxing poetic about Artemis' beauty wouldn't earn him any merit points with Persephone, but crowing over the moon goddess' ugliness was hardly going to endear him to her either.

Hades let his teeth sink into the crunchy, juicy apple to buy himself time. It was sour and tart to his taste buds, and he grimaced. It reminded him of Artemis. Devour a woman too early and she was as unpalatable as an unripe fruit; her form was hard and unyielding, her taste bitter and sour. But give a women time to mature, to _ripen_; and she would grow soft and voluptuous to the touch; her taste seasoned, her flesh supple and her flavour full. Of course leave her too long and indifferent Father Time would have his way with her; wizening her form, shrivelling her skin and drying her sweet juices, but that was why Hades didn't like mortal lovers. Goddesses were an amaranthine fruit; you couldn't bruise them easily even when you squeezed them ardently in your hands, and their flawless skin remained untouched by the seasons, their leaves always so fresh and full.

'Artemis,' Hades said quietly, choosing his words with meticulous care, 'will be a striking goddess some day, no doubt. But in my mind at least no other woman, mortal or immortal, could ever hope to contend with your beauty, Persephone.'

Persephone's lips curled up wryly at the corners, and Hades' eyes were inexorably drawn there. 'There you go again with your meaningless flattery. I fear you are a hopeless, incorrigible rogue, my Uncle.'

'Meaningless flattery? I speak the truth.'

'Your trouble,' Persephone said, and now her tone was getting heated as was the fire in Hades' chest when he saw her eyes lit up like that, 'if you will excuse my frankness, is that you only care to see that outward appearance of those around you. You pick women like you would flowers; only the most colourful, preened, _outwardly_ beautiful capture your attention. If you do not learn to see inward beauty in personality, hearts, thoughts and actions, then you shall never find happiness in love.'

Hades adopted his most irresistibly solemn face, a little less appealing than usual because he was talking with his mouth full of apple. 'I do see your inward beauty.'

Persephone shifted impatiently, and Hades was unsure whether she was annoyed by his lack of manners of his dogged persistence. 'Stop it. Let us not stain a pleasant outing with the angry colours of an argument.'

'I will not stop. You make such terrible claims against me; you can at least do me the courtesy of allowing me to defend myself! You say I am as shallow as a shoal when in fact the rivers of my heart run deeper than Poseidon's vast ocean.' Hades inwardly cringed at the lyrical rubbish pouring from his mouth like spray from a fountain, but he could see his words were having an effect. 'Beauty is the least of your qualities, Persephone, and that alone is a marvel considering how lovely you are. But you see; your spirit is livelier than your eyes, your open temperament softer than your skin, your kindness shining more brightly than your hair. I see it in how you care for your younger sister, and how you are willing to spend a day with an unworthy scoundrel such as myself. Such radiant kindness…'

Persephone raised her hand to her earlobe and fidgeted with it, an uneasy gesture. 'Lord Hades…'

'It is not my objective to embarrass you,' he said, milder now, 'but I do not wish to hide my feelings from you either. And I am having feelings for you, Persephone, I shan't deny it. It has been stirring within me for a while now, a tempest that I hoped would subside, but the more time I spend in your presence the wilder this storm inside grows. It is something purer, dearer than I have ever experienced in my wretched life, and I would not do it justice by hiding it away like some illicit impulse. I wish to declare it to you, to the world!'

Persephone tugged at her ear, her eyes squeezed shut. A flicker of pain crossed her brow. 'Oh don't, please…'

Hades reached across Artemis' inert form and moved Persephone's hand away from her abused ear. He was afraid she might pull it off. 'Do you hate me for admitting this to you?'

'I don't hate you.'

'Then how do you regard me? Give me a ray of enlightenment, please, because I am well and truly in the dark.'

Hades squeezed her hand. How smooth as the finest satin her skin felt, how fine her tiny fingers were against his, blunted and calloused from toil, and how fragile was her thin wrist as his fingers left hers and traced down until he stroked in small circles at her pulse point. This he did quite unconsciously, the pleasant rural scenery around him swaying and fading out as he did so; the tremulous vibration of her heartbeat at his fingertip got louder, rushing in his ears, erasing all else until the world was nothing but the two of them. How delicate she was! He could have snapped her arm like a twig without effort, and yet the resonant, steady thrum of her heartbeat was so vigorous and determined that it scared Hades in a way he'd never felt fear before. He wanted on some intuitive, basic impulse to protect this girl-this was contradictory to his cold, isolated character and yet it felt so _natural_- but Persephone's very essence; that of spring and new life bursting forth from the soil and blossoming, emanated a vivacious potency. She did not need his protection, and this wounded and bewildered him.

A butterfly fluttered past; a red admiral, and came to land on a wispy strand of Artemis's hair. Neither Hades nor Persephone noticed, as they were irrevocably caught up in the strange, all-encompassing power of the moment.

Persephone opened her eyes, intent cerulean eyes, orbs of gleaming light. 'I cannot accept your affections, Lord Hades, and you know that I cannot.'

'You haven't answered my question,' he said.

She attempted to remove her hand from Hades' grip, and struggled for a moment as he would not let go, but then he relented and Persephone's hand flew to her throat. She was breathing irregularly, her shoulders shaking as though she might be on the verge of crying. _Ah_, he thought, _so she is afraid to indulge herself in the doubtful comforts of love. In this way, we are alike. _

How easily he was breaking down her defences, yet in his frenzy of egoistic accolade over this accomplishment he entirely failed to notice how heavily his own defences had suffered in that timeless instant where her hand had belonged in his. Her brooch hit the fractured light trickling down through the boughs, greener than the field, greener even than the real apple she held.

'Is it because of my reputation?' he urged, enjoying himself somewhat. 'Because I have changed, Persephone. Seeing you helped me change. I did not know kindness until I met you. Tell me how you want me to behave, and I shall follow your every word. Tell me the man you want me to be, and I shall become him.'

Persephone looked miserable, cornered. Her brooch sparkled.

_She kept it. She actually likes it. Hera never kept any of the presents I bought her-_

She bit her lip, readying herself to speak, and her forehead got that little crease again.

_My crinkle, tiny little crinkle that I'll kiss someday-_

'I see now why my mother and Lady Leto warned me against you,' she said, whispering. 'If you were truly a reformed, honest man, then you would see the dreadfulness of what you are asking of me. The sad truth is that you will stop at no lengths to achieve your desired conquests, no matter whose repute you ruin in the process.' Hades felt a little shiver trickle down his spine at this. That was remarkably close to the truth; too close for his liking. 'Forgive me Lord Hades, but I shall cut our excursion short here. I had a lovely morning, and my sister and I shall thank you for your company and be on our way.'

Persephone stood in defiant readiness to leave, and Hades leapt upon his chance.

'You say you cannot accept my affections,' he remarked, as though calm, 'but do you return them? It would be dreadfully hypocritical of a maiden who declares she will not open herself to any man until she finds true love to _ignore_ true love when it comes along...would it not?'

His meaningful words stopped her dead as she took Artemis' shoulder, trying to rouse her. Persephone simply froze. Only her soot black hair moved about her shoulders, as though the zephyr were running his fingers through it, playing with it; nature itself smitten by her beauty and dying to put its hands on her.

'I do not wish to _claim_ you,' Hades went on, tossing his barely eaten apple aside where it rolled to a stop among the blades of grass, 'only to _deserve_ you. I want to know more about you; everything about you. I want to know the flowers and foods you like, what books you've read, what makes you happy and what makes you sad. I already know that rain makes you sad, doesn't it?'

This earned a small, guarded smile from her. 'Is that all you desire of me?'

'That is all. Is that so depraved?'

A bigger, helpless smile. Upon seeing it, Hades felt warmth inside that was not artificial in its origin. When she smiled he felt like smiling too-it was that simple. 'That isn't depraved,' she conceded.

'Tell me I can see you again, Persephone. Happily we have the whole summer to become acquainted, as though the fates themselves cannot bear to see our company put asunder. When can I be with you again?'

'I don't,' she faltered, evasive, 'I don't know if…'

'Take breakfast with me tomorrow morning,' Hades coaxed, realising that his schedule had been thrown out by Hera dropping the Artemis bombshell in the middle of his date and very annoyed about it. 'What do you say? They serve delicious pastries in the palace. And it is neutral ground where you can call for help if you feel that I may start anything…untoward...over the breakfast rolls.'

Again his exaggerated joke appealed to Persephone. His good humour was reflected in the pool of her eyes.

Artemis gave a muted groan and began to stir. The admiral took flight from its perch upon her hair.

'Just do as you feel for once in your life, Persephone,' Hades exclaimed, calculatingly tugging at the loose thread of desired independence that would ever be her weak spot. 'You will not regret it.'

Artemis blinked her heavy lids, coming to. Hades' heart slammed against his ribcage as he awaited a response. If Persephone didn't hurry then he would have a lot of explaining to do.

'I suppose it couldn't hurt,' Persephone told him, smiling tentatively.

Artemis yawned, drowsily returning to the real world. 'Is it lunchtime?' she murmured, utterly oblivious to the conversation that she'd just missed, and Hades finally relaxed, reposing his tense frame back against the bark of the tree with an exhaustion that startled him.

It was taking all his efforts to stay ahead in this game.

Persephone laughed gaily at her sister's childish doziness. 'It is,' she said with warmth, holding Artemis' hand. 'Let's have some food and be on our way home. You have lessons tonight, and Selene won't thank me if you are late to them.'

The girls chatted and ate, giggling over inane matters and appreciating the speckled ladybirds and vibrant butterflies and other wildlife that had joined them in the long grass, and Hades gradually felt his erratic pulse return to almost normal.

Almost.

Persephone's clothes hadn't quite dried yet.


	13. Act Three Scene Four

_Firstly: sexual content warning. To use the famous baseball euphemism; first and second base are described in detail, third base is hinted at, fourth base is left to the reader's imagination as the scene ends. I do hope I don't offend anyone. Secondly: I know this chapter is necessary to the plotline but I don't like this pairing, so don't expect any more intimate scenes between them.  
Hera returns next chapter! *rubs hands with evil glee*_

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**Act Three Scene Four:**

The sun lazily lingered low on the horizon, bleeding the streaky purple sky a deep blood red, dusk settling upon the remnants of the liquid gold daylight in sprinkled clusters of shimmering first stars.

Hades followed Artemis into her bedroom at his own pace. The gloom cast its black magic upon every surface, banishing the light and elongating the shadows into terrible silhouettes that wrought havoc on the imagination. Even the white sheets of the bed and the music box on her vanity looked eerily still in the murky atmosphere. It smelled faintly of lavender in here and sure enough, as Hades cast his eyes around, his pupils dilating and enlarging like a wild animal's to adjust to the darkness, he spotted a posy on a vase in the windowsill.

He found himself wondering if Persephone kept any flowers in her quarters. She must, being the Goddess of Spring.

Persephone; he'd said his goodbyes to her only moments ago. After the odd trio arrived home and talked in the stables for hours, Artemis unshakably trailing her sister and uncle around and refusing to go to her afternoon lessons, Hades has come to the realisation that he still had a duty to fulfil, and that it couldn't all be pleasure. Curious and unpredictable as the day had been he had in truth enjoyed himself beyond measure, but as the twilight beckoned so did the inevitable, onerous task before him. Hades had regretfully left Persephone in the warm, stuffy stables among the bales of hay, ushering Artemis out and explaining that if he were to tutor the young goddess in calligraphy they needed to come to some formal arrangements. Persephone, in the midst of grooming the energetic Gem, had bid them good evening. There had been not an ounce of mistrust in her eyes, though Hades liked to fancy that she had sounded a little disappointed to be excluded from their plans.

She would soon be begging to be his pupil too, Hades dreamt with an unbidden smirk. _All the beautiful girls near and far will soon be lining up to learn…technique…from me._

Artemis had quickly led him back to her quarters, the silence heavy between them as though she knew what was coming, and now she took off her sandals and set them aside, her footfalls soft on the birch flooring as she reached her bureau. It was a big, lavish thing with ornate golden handles on each drawer, and a quill fountain pen beside the pot of ink. Clean sheets of parchment awaited them, and Artemis laid her fingers upon them.

She half-turned to Hades, her childish face unreadable in the gloom but her voice unsteady and fearful.

'Shall we get started, my Lord?' she said.

Hades, without moving, closed the door behind them with his foot. Artemis' eyes grew larger.

'Tell me,' he said, in a voice so low it was barely audible, 'do you want me to teach you everything I know?'

Outside, the birdsong was waning, quieting as they roosted and settled down in their nests.

'Yes,' said Artemis, in a murmur as thin and frail as a butterfly's wing.

Hades crossed the room to her in three deliberate steps. She wrung her hands before him, barely chest height, and hesitantly fell down on one knee.

Hades seized her elbow, pulling her up again. 'What are you doing?'

'I…'Artemis whispered, tearfully humiliated, 'I thought I was to…'

'And how do you expect to offer a man pleasure when you as yet have no concept of its dizzying heights? Do not try to run before you can walk.'

Her lip trembled, her hazel eyes on the floor.

'Look at me,' Hades said, careful to give his gruff, raw voice a tender edge. A ruthless womanizer he might be, but he did not like to induce fear in the feminine sex. Women were to be dominated and ravished, yes, but never bullied. He tipped Artemis' chin upwards with his finger, and then ran a lock of her chestnut hair through his fingers. Artemis flinched, trembling all over.

'I will be gentle with you,' Hades coaxed in his usual persuasive tones of silk, his hypnotic mahogany eyes pools of sympathy. 'You have no need to fear me.'

He allowed his hand to sweep down her neck and over her shoulder, dislodging her finely-cut peplos as it went. One bare shoulder exposed, he unfastened the clasp on the other side. 'The pain,' he spoke as he worked, in a lulling murmur that could have charmed the mountains into moving or persuaded the mighty tide to stop and turn back as it broke against the shore, 'will not be as great as the pleasure.' The carnation pink fabric slipped down over her unformed figure, hitching at the silver chain belt around her shapeless waist.

Artemis stood before him, half naked and shivering in anticipation, her colour high and eyes overbright; shy and wild all at once. Her hands were crossed over her chest, concealing, discomfited.

'It is not you, nor the pain that I fear,' she whispered, teeth clattering. He could see the battle being waged within her. 'It is the disgrace.'

Hades bent and grazed a tantalisingly evasive kiss over the corner of her lips, pulling back again. He clasped her wrists and brought her arms to her sides.

'Little bunny,' he murmured, and while she wilted in his enduring gaze, he leaned over and dipped his finger into the ink pot. 'I speak from experience when I say that shame is like pain. You only feel it the first time, and after that you are too busy feeling others things to let it bother you at all.'

He allowed the cold ink to drizzle down her skin. Artemis let out a stifled gasp as Hades made a deliberate circular motion, as he'd done with Persephone's wrist only now in a far more intimate place, and then carefully and beautifully wrote his name, stroke by stroke, upon her upper body. When he was done, with an assenting glance from a very flushed Artemis, he lowered his generous mouth to one of the small mounds that passed for her breasts and gently nipped at it. The girl whimpered and arched her back. He was trying to remain neutral, to remain emotionally detached, but although this mission was but a means to an end and she was too young for his taste, Hades was still a man. He was not deaf to her moaning snatches of breath and the inevitable beauty of her hardening nipples as her excitement grew with each grazing sweep of his finger. He felt that dull heat bloom between his legs and worked on keeping his breathing steady. He could not lose control; he would be too much for her right away, but a day spent watching the shape of Persephone shifting beneath her moist clothes had already stirred him more aggressively than he cared to admit.

Artemis gasped his name, a tormented little sound, and Hades gently commanded her not to speak. He amused himself writing swirling patterns and letters lower and lower down her body, eventually unhooking her belt and letting her clothes pool around her ankles. He knelt, grazing his implacable lips first against her navel, then lower and lower still, and cruelly hesitated with hot, laboured breath until Artemis could stand it no more and her arms came to life from her sides and entangled in his hair, pulling in ecstasy and white hot expectancy. Hades grinned, breaking from her and standing, leaving them a foot apart.

Her white, firm body was still shivering but now with zealous pleasure, apprehension forgotten. Her hands traversed his chest and her arms wound around his neck, tugging him closer with plaintive neediness. Hades didn't care that she was getting his clothes all inky, he was immensely glad she had finally come to life. He didn't like making love to a dead thing.

He had quite enough of dead things in his vocation.

She shifted her hips against him and Hades caught his breath with difficulty, feeling his muscles tense, his body harden. Artemis felt it too because she smiled; a quirky, unnerving smile he'd never seen on her before. Even in the coming of night there was an unmistakably hungry look in her moist dark eyes, glistening with tears.

'Do not stop yet.' She dug her nails into the flesh at the back of his neck, more aggressive than he thought possible of her. 'Teach me all you know.'

'Such eagerness,' Hades said, mockingly, 'what brought about this change of heart, pray tell?'

'There is a man that I love,' Artemis replied without hesitation, raking her fingernails over his chest as her confession fell freely in the heat of the moment. 'I am learning the art of pleasure for him. It is all for him.'

'Is that right?' Hades breathed, not giving a hoot about who this silly girl chose to spend her virginal nights fantasising over, but wisely storing the information away in the back of his mind to pass on to his partner in crime later.

'Yes.' Artemis retracted her arms and wrapped them around chest, sliding her hands over her breasts and flicking her thumb over where Hades had laid his lips only moments before. He watched, unable to tear his gaze away, his appetite kindled like a flickering flame as she shyly fondled herself, her movements growing in confidence as she witnessed how appreciative Hades was of this display._ If only your mother could see you now_. 'That is why I can only give myself to you as a pupil, not as a lover. I hope that I do not offend you Lord Hades, but my heart already belongs to this certain someone else.'

'As does mine. I care for one beyond any other.'

She was surprised. Her quivering hands returned to his shoulders. 'Who is it you love most?'

'Me,' Hades said, before he caved in to his potent passion and crushed his mouth down, his tongue caressing hers. There was added beauty in how she swooned at this newfound sensual knowledge, how she received him with her soft, open, defenceless lips, how the shiver ran through her unguarded body, and how she quickly recovered herself as though eager not to disappoint.

He could smell her, feel her, taste her, and while she wasn't even as close to ringing his bells as Persephone or Hera, this escapade wasn't half as boring as Hades had imagined. He actually _wanted_ this feral little creature, and though his interest in her tonight was merely the end result of hours his libido had endured, suffering, watching the object of his yearning exhibit herself, it was enough to pour oil on the fire of his desire.

Unable to concentrate even on thoughts of Hera with Artemis' relentless little mouth moving over his neck, Hades finally let his brain go blank and his body take over.

_Did I tell you I had changed, Persephone?_ was the last wry musing to cross his mind before he and Artemis stumbled unseeing to the bed, knocking the ink flying and spilling onto the wooden floorboards. _I lied, my dear, I lied. I am an irredeemable rake, and happy to be so._


	14. Act Three Scene Five

**Act Three Scene Five:**

Hera lay stiff and straight in the gloom, her half-mast eyes staring blindly at the mosaic ceiling, her husband a stout, silent, motionless sculpture beside her, weighing heavily in their cold tomb of a bed. Now and then she could hear him breathing; a grunting snuffle of a snore like a wild pig would escape his hairy nostrils, and then he would settle again.

He had not touched her in years.

What kind of foul, putrid meat must she be that the hungriest dog in the yard would rather sniff the crotches of strangers and scratch at their doors to be fed, Hera wondered often? Her own husband refused to sink his teeth into the chilled slab of carrion she'd become, and yet he forbade any other man to touch her. When the king of Olympus had led that sweet, meek, innocent goddess to his palace in a carriage of promises and dreams Hera had been a new bride keen to prove herself, a wide-eyed young maiden in love. Now, after a thousand years of loneliness, she had learned to love only herself.

Naturally, she found others who were more than willing to tend to her needs. They occasionally met with demise a little sooner than those who were not daring to make mischief with the King of the God's wife, but Zeus never said a word to her about her infidelity. There had been that one time…her husband had entered the room in full view of the court and crossed to her in a swift march. He had struck her face until her lip had broken and bled, and then calmly proceeded to tell her in great and graphic detail of her mortal acquaintance who had been found, curiously enough, floating to the shoreline, his body bloated, his throat slit and missing several vital organs, and after announcing this Zeus had left the room as though nothing unusual had ever occurred. But no; he never spoke of her infidelity. Hera had grown careful after that. She did not take kindly to public humiliation, or to having her meticulously applied make up and hairstyle ruined in the middle of the day. She began to enjoy her lovers, not for the adoring glances and warmth of the physical contact, but because she knew that every minute spent in another man's arms was bold, dangerous, _wilful_ defiance of her husband, and oh, how she relished it! Now that she thought back upon this time, she remembered. It had been after that incident that Hades had spoken to her for the first time. It was not their first meeting, of course, but it had been the first occasion he had removed his gaze from her breasts long enough to let it linger upon her split lip. He had taken her face in his hands, so gentle…

Irritated by her own sense of nostalgia, Hera sat up and pushed back the embroidered satin brocade. She was careful not to wake Zeus. In the ethereal argentine moonlight flowing through the half open window on this hot night, she glided over to her private oaken chest kept in the corner of the lavishly furnished room. She unlocked the heavy silver clasp, the key to which she wore around her neck at all times, and it opened with a dusty creak and a stale swash of air. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure that her husband still slept, and on seeing his chest rise and fall with the even breath of a dreamer her questing fingers pulled out a small, rolled piece of parchment from the treasury of memories and correspondence horded within.

It was the thin page of a notebook; a diary entry which she would soon have to return lest the owner find it missing. The writing was slanted and showy and dotted with carefree doodles of flowers and hearts, the writing of an adolescent girl.

It could have been hers from a long, long time ago.

A noise startled Hera, causing her spine to stiffen and her attention to swivel toward the source of the disturbance. The balcony. Thanks to her nerves of steel she was able to shut the lid of the chest and return the contents all in one fell, hushed swoop, her accelerated heartbeat already being reigned in by her self-assurance, and she stood and brushed aside the filmy curtains.

She should have known who it would be even before she saw him, but anger at his unsolicited presence flooded through her all the same. He fluttered his fingers up at her in a crude greeting, his teeth flashing in the pale and remote glow of the stars, and Hera exhaled a profane exclamation under her breath.

_No fine garments, no jewellery, no cake of cosmetics to hide behind; he has caught me at an inopportune time and he knows it. All I have to face him with is my mask of indifference, and fortunately this is my most polished and well-practised visage of all._

Pushing a smile onto her lips, she opened one of the balcony doors and unhurriedly stepped onto the terrace, a gust of pleasurable midnight breeze moving her long blonde tresses from where they bounced about her shoulders, liberated, sleek and beautiful. Her trim ankles brushed the hem of her thin white nightdress as she slowly closed the door behind her with a calculated click that she prayed would not awaken the dozing dragon in the cave.

'Must you go out of your way to be a nuisance?' Hera said, turning around, and the last of her words was but a whisper because she turned to find Hades' face inches from hers. He rested a hand on the door either side of her neck.

'You wouldn't have me any other way,' he returned, soft and content.

Hera was unable to back up, and she did not care to push him to clear her path. It would be all too tempting to shove him over the edge of the railing. Trapped, she glared down at him, the challenging smile never leaving her face. 'You visit my bed chamber when your brother is present? Does your foolishness know no bounds?'

'How was I to know my negligent sloth of a brother would be here? Like the rest of the living world I was under the impression that his nightly visits to you were at best seldom, at worst never.'

Hera's eyes slitted. 'I might have had a lover with me.'

'Speaking from experience, if you had organised an infidelity for tonight then you would not be wearing the drab, anile, concealing garment of a doddering crone.' His eyes traversed her body, covered neck to toe, and an upswell of righteous indignation caught in Hera's throat.

'Knave,' she said with a deadly smile, fluttering her lashes, 'I shall forbear the urge to strike you again only if you remove your devious, unsightly attendance out from under my nose in the next three seconds.'

Hades dutifully withdrew. He offered a hand to help her down the three marble steps, but she ignored it. The height gave her an advantage over him.

'How did you get here?'

Hades peeked over the edge of the railing. 'Did you happen to know that the wild rose trellis outside of Artemis' window, two stories down, leads up here?' He raised an absent hand to his tousled black head and pulled out what Hera now recognised to be a leaf. 'It turns out I am highly adept at climbing.'

Hera stared at him the way one stares at a cockroach. He had the nerve to scale the walls of the palace like a flea-ridden monkey, trespass into her quarters and then stand there amiably, looking as comfortable and poised as a king on a throne. She was thrilled to see him-there was never a time she wasn't thrilled to see him-but this knowledge of her own vulnerability only made her angrier. 'You come to my quarters when I summon you. No other time are you welcome.'

'My dear sweet Queen,' Hades remarked with a disapproving frown, waggling a finger, 'so adept you have grown at poisonous barbs that I can no longer tell whether you speak in jest or in solemnity. Such venom concocted in such a pretty mouth.'

'My mouth is none of your concern.'

'There was a time when your mouth was my primary concern. How often I dreamt of it…'

He made to touch her. Her hand lashed out at his, colliding. _How many times must I smack him away before he learns? Why must he be so persistent? The obdurate fool._

'You come from Artemis? So am I to take it that our agreement is complete?'

Hades smiled an infuriatingly casual smile, his eyes distant and far, and he found himself a seat at the table where Hera played her afternoon games of solitaire. He couldn't sit on a chair, naturally, that would be too civil for him.

'I have tutored Artemis well,' he said, and Hera was annoyed by the nebulous, evasive inflection of his voice. There was a nuance she couldn't read within it. 'When I unleash the willing little slut upon the court as Olympus' premiere tramp, the boot will be on the other foot. Leto's name will be so fouled in the quagmire of scandal that she won't be opening her mouth…or her legs…for quite some time. I have evened the score for both you and I.'

'It took you long enough. It has been an entire week.'

'Education must not be rushed. Are you not even going to congratulate me on my revenge?'

'I don't see the rationale in congratulating you on an exploit that you yourself considered to be unworthy of your reputation. One does not applaud the tenor for clearing his throat.'

This time, when Hades' grin spread out and revealed his teeth, it was genuine. Hera was able to read this expression well; it was familiar. It was playful.

'You could at least congratulate me for tolerating the little wench for an entire five days,' he replied, running his fingers along the edge of the table. His ring glistened in the starlight, winking. The summer night sky was clear as crystal tonight, and the brisk cadence of the breeze stirred his raven's plume hair around his ears. 'Our sessions were…extensive…to say the least. I can barely walk in a straight line.'

Hera's upturned nose wrinkled and she folded her arms across her chest. Gooseflesh had risen beneath the thin cloth of her dress. 'Spare me the sordid details.'

'There is one detail that may intrigue you. Our dim-witted little bunny is carrying a torch for somebody. She told me herself that she is in love, and that she learns the art of love for him and him alone. An interesting development, wouldn't you say?'

Hera regarded Hades with cool aloofness. He looked like an eager child raising his hand in class, trying to catch the attention of the teacher and earn a reward, approval for his hard work.

She scanned the sky, keeping him waiting as long as she dared. The moon above was a crescent hanging in the infinite twilight sky. She finally replied, her eyes traversing its smooth silver surface and craters, 'Her archery partner, Orion.'

Hades looked surprised, admiring, and a tad disappointed. 'You already knew.' It was not a question.

'I know everything.'

'What are you scheming, Hera? How does this Orion figure into our plans?'

'My plans, Hades. _My_ plans. Your role in this is over, though I am sure that I needn't remind you that keeping Artemis sweet would work in your favour, unless you want her to go running to your quarry for a shoulder to cry upon.'

Hades frowned, evidently displeased. 'Wonderful. If I have to bear more scratches on my back my servants will think I've adopted a particularly ill-tempered polecat as a pet.'

'Do me the courtesy of not pretending that you are unhappy with this arrangement. Your insatiable exigencies for a regular supply of carnality have never before been constrained by the shortcomings of how young- or violent- the creature beneath you is. So long as she has a pulse, a husband, and firm buttocks, is that not your criteria?'

'Not at all. I have always been more of a breast man than a buttocks man,' Hades replied easily, making a vulgar gesture with both hands that made Hera shudder. 'Nevertheless you forget my most crucial criteria. She must have a status to be ruined. It is true that some of my conquests are for pleasure alone, but my number one goal is to bring the stuffy noblesse down to my level after they sneered down at me for so long. The enormous fun I'm gaining from it is only a happy coincidence.' He paused and scratched his stubbled chin thoughtfully. 'Did you receive the package I mailed?'

'The page of Persephone's diary? Yes, I received it. I must say I'm surprised at you Hades…lasciviousness, skulduggery, and now larceny to add to your ever expanding list of crimes.'

'Hera!' Hades exclaimed loudly, his hand to his chest in an affected gesture of wounded pride, 'To steal the diary of the young maiden who I am pursuing, to read her most innermost, private thoughts; how could you think me capable of such a dastardly deed?' He tutted, head down, eyes gleaming. 'I slept with Persephone's maid and then blackmailed her into stealing it for me, so my conscious is quite clear. Or it would be if I had one.'

Hera scoffed, 'You needn't sound so proud. Why go to such effort to procure those inane ramblings? _Dear diary,_ _I saw Lord Hades again today, blah blah blah. We take breakfast together each morning and I am scared of how my heart races whenever we speak, blah blah blah. I find myself glancing at him and often he glances back, blah blah blah. He tells me that has feelings for me and, tortured as I am over thoughts of him tutoring my baby sister, I wonder if I mightn't have feelings for him too, blah blah blah. Lady Leto told me that he is even more deceitful than he is attractive, but when I look in his eyes I cannot believe that to be true._' Hera moved toward Hades, taking the steps down one heavy stride at a time, her vivid green eyes burning like fire in her pale face. '_Blah_,' she said in his face, annunciating the syllable,_ 'Blah. Blah._'

Getting so near to him was an error made in haste, she realised as Hades' hands crawled around her waist. There was something very raw about how he smelled tonight. The masculine scent was of sweat and something else.

'Jealous, Hera?' he breathed, roguish.

'Sickened,' she whispered, the word hissing over her claret lips. 'Not by that prissy girl, but by you. You are becoming insufferably lax.'

'I obtained the diary at your request. You asked for proof positive of my triumph over Persephone's maidenhead and when the time comes, that shall be it. She will recount her surrender verbatim, and you shall read it and know you have lost. Moreover, you know how I enjoy watching a fair young lass' inner quarrel between lust and virtue.'

'My concern,' Hera tore his hands from where they were happily sliding down to her hips and grasped them in her own, 'is that you seem more content to watch this battle than to win it.'

Hades laced his fingers with hers, squeezing, his oposeless magnetism capturing her for a second. 'Winning this battle is foremost in my mind. Every second that I was ruining Artemis, every second that I rode beside Persephone, all I could think about was rolling in the sheets with you. Come now, don't ruin your glowing complexion with that ugly purple umber. You look as though you wish to clout me again Hera, but I know that inside your pretty head you are thinking thoughts as wicked as I. It is most craven of you to hide your infatuation for me behind a thin veil of denegation.'

Thinly veiled it was. Her heart was pounding in her throat, her breath short and sharp. She'd never been so aroused by him as in that moment.

'_My_ infatuation for _you_?' she laughed, a chilled, conceited chime like dry ice. 'I think you may have been banged against the headboard so many times that your brains have fallen out.'

Hades laid her hands on his chest, his warm heartbeat pulsing in her palm beneath his flexing muscles, and then delved his fingers into her hair. 'I adore seeing you wear your hair down,' he murmured. 'You look so youthful.' He lifted it from her shoulders, his deep chocolate eyes studious as he tilted his head one way and then the other. He then let it slip from his hands and spill, tumbling in golden locks down her back again. When he spoke his voice was as low and quiet as the rustle of an angel's wing. 'We had something once, Hera, did we not? I wanted you from the moment I saw you; my ego demanded it. I loved you more fiercely than I love my nether realm of the Underworld.' He wrapped a crisp saffron ringlet around his finger, tugging gently at it. 'Despite all we shared, the depths of the fervid passion we endured in the flames of each other's arms, will you never admit the same?'

Hera, stricken, took her hands back at once. Her surge of yearning had diminished to a trickle. 'Fondle my hair again and I shall scream so shrilly that Zeus will awaken and lay waste to you.'

'Then I shall comply,' Hades said, dropping his hands to his sides, 'because he will no doubt lay waste to you too, and seeing your flawless bellitude ravaged by a cruel hand is not something I can bear to be the cause of ever again.'

For the first time that night and in many years, his solemnity had rendered her speechless and cold. She loathed such frank honesty. He had pushed her to the edge, and now half of her wanted to scream for his immediate imprisonment and torture while the other, dominant, half of her wanted to fall into his arms and kiss him brutally and unremittingly until she tasted his tangy blood in her mouth.

But more than anything she wanted to weep.

Hera took a moment to regain control over herself and then said, in a perfectly level voice, 'Acquire your evidence, Hades, and you will find out how I feel for you.'

'I intend to.' He swallowed, and his Adam's apple quivered. 'I intend to.'

Perhaps Hades knew he'd gone too far, because he gave a soft cough and then was instantly cheerful again, lightening the tense funereal atmospheres. 'What a pity,' he drawled, standing from the table and meandering to the ornate handrail to observe the handsome view of the grounds, 'that my success in this area of our arrangement does not correlate to our other enterprise, mm?'

A pitiless hard smile played at Hera's tight lips. 'That would be insultingly simple to both of us and divergent to the rules of our bet.'

'Could you not make an allowance? It would be a generous thing, if you were to show enough confidence in my abilities to give me a little,' swiftly and silently as an owl taking flight, he was suddenly before her again with a smirk, his eyes twinkling, 'advance?'

With a bored expression, Hera extracted herself from her collaborator's hot, seeking touch and walked elegantly back up the steps inside to where the apathetic husband she hated slept soundly.

'Good night, Hades.'

As she passed the table she noticed the solitaire board was askew where he'd made himself comfortable on it. It was so much easier to play with yourself than with other people, she mused.

Easier…but not nearly as satisfying.

_Act Three: End_


	15. Act Four Scene One

_Sorry for the long hiatus, guys. We're back on track._

* * *

**Act Four Scene One:**

There was a current of excitement running through the hot air in the Olympian court – it crackled like electricity and made everybody flushed and flustered. The word on all lips, bubbling up and running rampant like Chinese whispers, was of the coming Summer Banquet, to be held in celebration of the longest day.

It was a loud, busy, heaving affair held annually; games would be played, dancers would dance, acrobats would entertain, wine would flow freely and musicians would fill the symposium with sweet symphonies too beautiful for mortal ears. This was a tradition in Zeus' palace, but rarely were the women invited to take part, and rarer still was the guest list so extensive...it seemed as though every deity in the known world had been invited to this year's festivities.

In a private courtyard, escaping the mad rush of preparation as servants flew this way and that like excitable sparrows; two figures solemnly faced one another. The rich odour of azaleas filled the air, and the June sun warmed their necks, shoulders and arms. The sunshine made short work of the shadows in the courtyard, fragmented though it was through the circumference of ancient oaks that lined the palace, and touched the dew on a bush of blue and purple hydrangeas, blossoming with shameless ostentation like actresses on the stage of a midsummer's day. But despite the loveliness of their surroundings, a cold mood blacker and more desolate than the waters of Styx shrouded the goddesses.

Leto folded her hands in her lap and frowned mistrustfully, and Hera smiled back in perfect affected innocence.

She was aware of the nicknames for her that the jealous goddess had spread about – the 'Green-Eyed Serpent' was one of the kindest. _How ironic that this tittle-tattling shrew calls ME the poison-spitting snake! _Hera often thought. Oh yes; Leto loved to talk, and the preened, petty peacocks of the court loved to listen and squawk with shrill laughter. They all knew what their Queen was, really. Women were so much harder to fool than men, and she had premeditated that Leto would not so easily take her word on this matter.

But Hera could be very persuasive.

'How do you know?' Leto whispered, affirming her prediction.

Hera waved a flippant hand, sipping her ambrosia and setting it down with a clink. Sparrows chirped in the distance, a humming honeybee drifted past, and a breeze touched her ringlets with the infatuated gentleness of a lover. The sun on her shoulders felt like a warm massage, and relaxed her. She knew she looked the picture of easy glamour beside severe Leto – a poppy beside a weed – and it instilled her with a kind of savage confidence.

'My darling, everybody knows! Everybody in court, that is,' she added with an adjusted tone of tact, gazing out from under her long, dark lashes. 'If you do not wish the rest of the world to know, you had best put a stop to it soon. The Summer Banquet is coming up – a night when most young people simply _live_ to make fools of themselves! I can picture it now…both of them in their finest, he asks her to dance, a little too much wine, a little too much moonlight…and the next thing you know…'

She lifted and dropped her shoulders. 'Think of all those grand temples built to the virgin goddess that will have to be torn down...'

Leto stifled a groan, and Hera's smile widened.

_Picture it_, she thought. _Hear the stones crumbling into dust as your daughter's name goes the same way. Yes. Picture it, darling, because it going to happen, as sure as an oracle from Delphi…_

'Yes,' Hera pressed on, enjoying the mother's distress, 'something like this could well destroy her reputation, and I should hate to see that happen...'

'But why?' said Leto. She gripped the fabric of her skirts, her long pale fingers turning even whiter at the knuckles. 'Why should you care about my daughter? Your own reputation precedes you, Hera. When it comes to Zeus' illegitimate children you are not known for your civility. None of us have forgotten the Heracles incident-'

'But that is the point, is it not?' said Hera with strenuous, almost harsh politeness. 'She may not be my daughter, but she is my husband's daughter. She is an Olympian princess, and any shame the silly girl brings on herself...'

She rested both hands just above her bosom and laid back, expelling a short little sigh, in the gesture of one who has been slightly offended.

Both of the women were quiet for a long moment.

During the long silence, Hera studied Leto's drooping shoulders and mousy hair with private glee. Unbecoming red patches splotched her neck; payment for skin too white to tan with grace. _Despite being twins Apollo has inherited his father's good looks,_ she mused, _while Artemis has clearly been left with the dregs of the gene pool from her mother's side. What did Zeus see in this irritating, homely creature? What does she have that I lack?_

In trying to find the answer to this plaguing question, Hera had pored over Leto's past, scrutinising every detail. Mocked throughout her childhood for her parents' involvement in the wrong side of the Titanomachy, Leto's childhood had been secluded and troubled. A dreary, drab and sullen little girl who did not endear herself through her penchant for spiteful gossip, she had begun to blossom into something more sufferable upon puberty, and when the King of the Gods had extended his interests she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

_The slut was on her back faster than Aphrodite_, Hera thought darkly. _Like mother like daughter._

Leto had apparently understood and accepted what risks she had provoked in falling in love with a married man, but back then the risks had been all her own. She had been smug and improper around Hera, clearly willing to throw everything away if the affair came out in the open – surely passion on a knife edge was better than an eternity in drudgery. But then she had found out she was pregnant – with twins no less – and suddenly the peril was no longer her own to bear. She was mortified to have brought children into the mess she had created – this had been evident from the way Hera watched her creep about the court, shame-faced and purse-lipped. Hera enjoyed lording over her husband's latest mistress the knowledge that she could, at any time, wreak vengeance on her.

Or more deliciously, her children.

But Hera knew the value of biding her time. To Leto's disbelief, Hera never made a move. She forbade Leto from giving birth on Olympus, but that was a given, and hardly more than a gesture. Hera never confronted her, and had not yet shown the slightest interest in Leto or her spawn. Hera watched with casual serenity as Leto grew more suspicious every day, but could only wonder, utterly helpless, like a fish dangling on a hook and waiting to be reeled in to its doom.

However, she thought, sipping at her barely-touched cup of ambrosia and not tasting it, Leto knowing her well would work to her advantage. Leto would imagine that if there was one thing she could count on in Hera, (apart from a near psychotic sense of hell-bent vengeance) it was narcissism. If the virginal Artemis really was carrying on with her archery partner – a mere mortal no less, even if the commoners called him 'the most handsome of the earth-born' – then it was perfectly legitimate that Hera should want to end the affair, not for Artemis' sake, but her own. If there was one thing Leto knew all too well from her parents' misdemeanours, Hera gloated, it was how dishonour on a family spread like a foul airborne disease, uncaring whether or not whether its victims were guilty, or merely related to the guilty.

The only crucial thing that Leto did not know was this: that Hera's sense of vengeance was far too developed now to be conquered by her narcissism. These days she was willing to risk ruining her own weary existence if it meant the ruination of another. What was life without a little thrill to make it interesting?

The sun drifted hesitantly behind one of the lumps of cotton cloud smattered across the sky, and the air grew cooler. Hera held her breath in expectation.

Leto swallowed her ambrosia, and set it down heavily.

'I appreciate your candour, Hera,' she said. 'I shall get rid of Orion.'

The sun reappeared with timidity, as though to apologise for leaving, and the courtyard was flooded with golden once more. Despite the shrinking of the shadows, the strength of the sun hitting the bright cobbled square gave their darkness all the more clarity. The breathless vibrancy instilled by the height of summer and the coming party was once again causing the very molecules in the air to tremble.

'No need for thanks, dear,' said Hera, licking her lips. Her legs crossed, one dainty, besandalled food began to sway up and down in good humour beneath the table. 'My pleasure.'


End file.
